


Underneath It All

by cakeby_thepound



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Original Character(s), Richonne - Freeform, Some Dixonne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeby_thepound/pseuds/cakeby_thepound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Michonne have spent months building a bond. A trust. They're each other's support system. But what happens when they don't need each other anymore? Sometimes good things fall apart, so better things can fall together. </p><p>(Richonne, mostly. Timeframe: Post-Terminus – Alexandria.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

_**Michonne's POV** _

There's an eeriness in the air when I step off of that fire truck. It's not just the usual aura of death that follows us everywhere we go, but more of a sadness. It feels like hopelessness. And what makes it eerie is that we were all so happy when we got on that truck, headed into Atlanta to meet the rest of our group. We drove into the city, believing we would save Beth and Carol, and everything would be fine. Even if Washington was a bust, we had hope because we had each other. But I can feel it melting away with every step we take towards this hospital. Something is wrong.

And then it happens. Rick appears, and he's got this frown on his face that I can't decipher. Is he angry? Is he sad? He shakes his head and I realize it's both.

The vision of Daryl carrying Beth's limp body out of that place is one I won't easily forget. It's burned into my memory, along with the scream Maggie lets out when she sees her sister. I've been there before. That feeling of knowing you were just a little too late – it haunts you.

I catch a glimpse of Glenn, and he looks utterly lost. And he probably should, because there's absolutely nothing he can do. There's nothing he can say to help his wife, and there's nothing we can say to help them. This life keeps chipping away at our family, and for whatever reason, it's decided to sink its teeth into the Greenes and not let go. I feel lost for them. What I wouldn't give to be able to fix this world for these people.

But I can't. And I can't stand here any longer, watching all this grief. Daryl looks completely shattered, and I can feel that tugging at me. I remember Beth going around the prison saying she didn't cry anymore. Well, that's me now; perhaps because I've simply run out of tears. So I turn for the truck to check on Carl and Judith, and by extension, Eugene, I suppose. But then I catch sight of Rick walking away, and it stops me in my own tracks. I can't help but wonder where he's going.

I know he has moments. Moods. He's been unusually subdued, ever since the prison fell, and it scares me that he hasn't reacted to anything. Not Hershel, not Bob, not gutting someone to death. He's stayed on a completely even keel, which makes me wonder if he's on the verge of breaking.

I follow him between the tents and watch him for a second. He's holding one of the tent poles with one hand, and the bridge of his nose with the other. He looks like he needs support. "You okay," I call out to him.

He turns to my voice and then away from me. I can tell he's wiping his face. "I'm all right," he returns hoarsely. I can tell he's not. I stand there for a second too long, deciding whether he wants me to join him, and he cuts to the chase. "I just needed a minute."

That's understandable. We all need minutes. I turn to give him his, but my mind wanders to the last time I've seen Rick cry. Aside from those wonderfully happy tears when he and Judith were reunited, I can't think of one. I want to say something, but again, I have nothing that would help.

"I can stay with you," I finally offer. He doesn't respond. I know I should probably take that as a no, but I make the steps toward him anyway.

"I'm tired, Michonne." His voice is so faint, I can tell that it's true. His eyes are low, but they're open, as if he's watching his own tears drop to the ground.

"You should be," is all I can say.

He looks at me as he wipes his face again. "Aren't you?"

Constantly. In fact, I'm tired of being tired. But part of me feels like that information won't do either of us any good, so I feign a smile for him and shake my head. "Bob believed that there was good in this world. And so did Beth. So I hold onto that and I keep on pushing."

He nods, and it feels like he's hearing the words, but he's got nothing left in the way of belief. "I don't know," he sighs. His hand goes over his face once more and then he slowly stoops down to sit on the ground. It's as if his body has physically given up on him. His head rests against the tent pole as his eyes close. "I'm not sure how much I've got left."

It kills me to hear him say this. I've probably taken for granted just how much he had to give in the first place, but the last thing I want to see is for Rick Grimes to give up. He was the guy to let me into this group in the first place. He and Carl and Andrea were the ones to break down these big metal walls I'd put up, and let some light in. So him giving up isn't an option. He's the real reason I've kept pushing.

My hand instinctively goes to run my fingers through his hair. It's what I used to do with Andre, when he'd run into the kitchen and hold my leg, like the little peanut that he was. God, I miss him. And Rick obviously isn't him, but I get the feeling he needs comforting in that same way. And when he lets the back of his head rest against my leg, I know I'm right. Sometimes, just physical contact will do. And it doesn't have to be a hug or kiss. Just the touch of someone who cares about you.

"It's been a bad day," I tell him, still gently caressing him. "But that doesn't mean it's a bad life."

* * *

_**Rick's POV** _

Our bad day ended at a women's shelter near downtown. Carol and Daryl were there just a couple of nights before, so it was clear of walkers, at the least. There were enough beds for each of us to have our own rooms, but no one wanted to be alone. No one even wanted to sleep, because that meant allowing your subconscious mind to be alone with your conscious thoughts, and having no control over what it decided to do with that information. No… no, thanks.

Michonne, Carl, Judith, and I were sharing a room that night. We had a bunk bed and a bathroom, but most importantly, each other. It was reminiscent to our days on the road to Terminus, with our weird slumber parties on the floor of some abandoned house. Of course, we didn't have Judith then, so it was difficult for Carl. I tried to stay strong for him, but much in the same way Glenn tried to be there for Maggie today, I knew I was failing. And Michonne stepped in and did what I couldn't, god bless her. She had a way of doing that – making my son smile. And now my daughter, too. Speaking from experience, it's not so easy to get a Grimes to smile. But she did it.

It was late by the time we got the kids to sleep. Judith was easy. She would fall asleep mid-sentence if she could talk. But Carl wanted to stay up with us, being all down in the dumps about Beth, and I thought it was important to let him. Just because I didn't want to talk through my grief didn't mean he didn't.

I listened to him and Michonne talk for an hour straight, about absolutely nothing. Some video game called Grand Theft Auto, which sounded hilariously inappropriate. How they couldn't believe the Saints won the last Super Bowl we'd ever see. The Saints and the Falcons are mortal enemies, after all. How the ending to Lost was some bullshit. That one, I had to agree with. And then my mind started to wander, and I couldn't help but think that maybe this is our island. Maybe Beth is seeing some alternate life right now, while she waits to get into heaven. I wonder what that looks like.

"Hey." Michonne's voice went tumbling through my thoughts until I brought myself to look at her. She was staring back at me with concern.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, shaking off my daze. "I'm all right."

"Well I asked if you wanted to take the bottom or the top bunk, and you didn't answer."

I looked up at the top bunk, where Judith and Carl were already fast asleep. I suppose she could've taken Judith and I could hop up top with Carl, but there was no need to disturb them. "We can share this, don't you think?"

"Yeah?"

"Unless you have a need to get under the covers or somethin'…"

She smiled at my little joke and sat down on the bed beside me. "I think I'll live."

I let my eyes fall closed and replayed those four words in my head for a moment. After the day we've had, I think it bears repeating. "Me, too." I passed her a pillow and we both fell back into the mattress at practically the same time.

"It feels odd to be back in this city," she declared with a small sigh. "When we were driving in, I just kept imagining getting off at my exit and going home."

I turned my head so that I was facing her. Even in the darkness, I could place every single one of her features. "That's how I felt when you, me, and Carl took that trip back to my hometown. I walked into that police station, and it felt good for a minute. It felt like I was back where I belonged."

"Instead of always feeling so displaced," she agreed.

"Feeling like a drifter…"

"A nomad."

"Vagabond." I laughed, mostly at the fact that that word was even in my vocabulary. She did, too. It felt good to laugh, even if it was at the very somber notion that we had no home. We were lost. I said that to Shane nearly two years ago, having no idea just how much worse it could get. It felt silly now, thinking back on it. We had it good on that farm.

"Where do we go now?" she asked, seeming to read the hell out of my mind. "Eugene can't save the world…"

"Shocking."

"Right," she smiled. "But for the first time in a long time, we have no direction. What are we gonna do?"

I'd been asking myself that all evening long. I had a group full of broken people, with no way to fix them, and nowhere to put them. "I don't know," I answered honestly. "But you pulled me out of the darkness today," I assured her. "It was like you just turned on a switch... So I know it's possible. And I'm gonna do the same for them. For us."

She nodded against her pillow with a small grin still tugging at her cheeks. "Sometimes, your only available transportation is a leap of faith."

"Yeah…" We locked eyes for a fraction of time and I nodded at her unspoken agreement to follow me on whatever journey we were about to take. We were headed into unchartered waters, and we both knew it. I inched just a little bit closer to her – not much, but enough so that we could feel each other's warmth – and I closed my eyes. "Let's jump."


	2. the light

Noah wanted to go to Richmond. He said they had walls, which was what piqued my interest, but also? Beth wanted to get him there. She was prepared to go with him, he said. And everything I know about Beth made me believe that was true.

Virginia was far. Much further than we were prepared to go in that fire truck, with barely any food. But if Noah was right about this place, and we could make lives there, it would be worth the trip. I could stop making these people walk in these endless circles around Georgia.

"It's a long trip," I admitted to the small group of people that still had the wherewithal to stand. "But if it works out, it's the last long trip we have to make."

"And what if it isn't around anymore?" Glenn asked what I'm sure they were all thinking.

"Then we keep goin'." I gave him a look to let him know I'd push him there if I had to. Hell, I'd carry him. But giving up just wasn't an option.

"Then we find a new place." It was Michonne who chimed in to agree, and I couldn't have been more thankful. The look on her face told me she wasn't just saying it to back me up. She believed it.

I nodded at her words and repeated them myself. "Then we find a new place."

Glenn took that opportunity to leave the discussion, leaving me and Michonne with Eugene, Tara, and Noah. "Y'all should get some rest," I told the latter three. "We'll be headin' out in the morning."

Michonne waited for them to disperse before coming to stand beside me. She rested against our newfound van, same as I had been, and looked out to the setting sun. "You know how to get to Virginia?"

"I don't have a single clue," I realized with a small chuckle, scratching my eyebrow. "With the roads the way they are, I'm not even sure what we're gonna find out there."

"And we probably need another car."

"We definitely need another car," I nodded. "Probably two."

She let out a sharp exhale and stood up straight again. "Who should I get? Carol? Daryl?"

I loved the fact that she already knew my plan without me having to say it. We'd be spending our evening scavenging for cars. "I think Abraham, Rosita, Carol go one way; then you, me, Daryl go another?"

She nodded and turned towards the section of parking lot where the rest of our group was camped out.

"Hey," I called after her. I waited for her to spin back around before asking, "You wanna do this, right?"

"Yeah," she frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you think this is the right move. You wouldn't rather spend our energy finding a place here."

Her frown softened, and she moved in closer to me again. "I think getting Noah back home is the right thing to do. This is for Beth," she reminded me. Her eyes took in our surroundings once more before they landed back on me. "But maybe it can be for us, too."

I nodded again as I watched her walk away. I found myself mesmerized by her walk, more often than not. And it wasn't just because she had thighs that could stop traffic, had there been any left to stop. But she had a swagger that was hard to miss. She moved like she owned the place. It was fascinating and majestic. I had to actively stop myself from staring.

I knocked on the back of the van, where Carl and Judith had been sitting, eating some dinner. He came peeking out, underneath that hat I'd given him so long ago. It boggled my mind that every time I looked at my son, he seemed to be getting older. Time was such a son of a bitch.

"I'm goin' on a quick run," I told him. "Hopefully not more than a couple of hours."

"Okay," he nodded. He was feeding his sister a cracker while she tugged at his shirt. "Is Michonne going?"

"She is," I nodded. "So you stay close to Glenn. But don't bother him or Maggie if you don't have to."

"I got it."

"All right." I left a kiss on top of Judith's head and gazed at Carl for a moment. I was glad he seemed to be adapting well to this life on the road. He was doing better than me. And Judith was almost lucky to never know a life other than this one. The little munchkin would grow up more prepared for this world than any of us ever could be. I just had to get her there. "Be safe," I told Carl.

"You too, Dad."

* * *

A few hours later, Daryl, Michonne, and I were in a residential area near Grant Park, still staking out driveways for any suitable vehicles. We'd run a few miles and I was admittedly tired, but I was optimistic. I think Michonne was, too. But Daryl was trailing behind us, looking like his best friend died. And every time I looked back at him, I had to remind myself that she did. I don't know what happened with him, with Beth, before she was taken, but whatever it was obviously had a profound effect on him.

"He wasn't this sad when his brother died," I noted to Michonne quietly.

"Well Merle was an asshole, so… that's not surprising."

I winced when I remembered the sordid history between him and her, not meaning to bring up bad memories. "Sorry."

"No, I mean, Daryl knew his brother could be a shitty person. But he redeemed himself in the end, and he probably made peace with that," she explained smartly, her voice just above a whisper. "Beth… I dunno."

"She was so innocent," I understood. "She was supposed to live."

"Not that Merle deserved to die, but… Beth deserved to live," she agreed. "That's hard for someone like him to get over."

I wasn't sure what she meant by someone like him, but I nodded as if I did. We both spotted a minivan at the same time, and silently made our way over to it for inspection. I knocked on the window while she cleaned the glass with her gloved hand. No walkers. I opened the door and the keys were in the seat, staring back at me. I knew it was a long shot then, because a perfectly working vehicle wouldn't have been sitting on the road just waiting for us.

"I guarantee there's no gas," Michonne declared, reading my mind as she took the passenger seat.

I stuck the key in the ignition, and to no one's surprise, the car wouldn't start. "Onward and upward, I guess." With a sigh, the two of us hopped out of the car and stood in the road, waiting for Daryl to catch up. "Thank you for comin' out tonight," I told her. I knew I didn't need to thank her anymore, but I wanted to. "And for bein' the only one that actually wants to do this."

"I'm not the only one," she offered diplomatically.

I gave her a look that said,  _We both know that's a lie._ But I appreciated her trying. "I just feel like I'm dragging them all forward. Not a push, but like I'm pulling them away from this while they dig their heels into their misery."

She looked at me with a gleam in her eyes. Or maybe the moonlight was just making it seem that way. "And?" was all she said.

"And… I wish I had a better flight plan."

"Rick, that's what you're supposed to do," she smiled. "You're the one we've all rallied behind, and you're the one that's supposed to keep us going when we have nothing left. In the face of darkness, you… drag everyone, kicking and screaming, into the light. That is the point of you."

I smiled back, because I knew that that was actually the point of her. For me, anyway. When I had nowhere to go but out of my mind, she came to the prison and reined me back in. Then when we lost the prison, and Carl and I had nothing left, she showed up at our door and put hope back into our lives. And just a few days ago, when I wasn't sure whether I had it in me to keep fighting, she reminded me that I did. That I do. "You keep talking like this, I'm gonna start thinking you believe in me soon," I joked.

"Hey, I had my heels dug in deep," she reminded me. "I was angry. I was silent. But you made me be an active member of this group," she said, answering my unasked question. "And then you sent your kid after me, making me all emotionally available and shit."

"Oh, is that what I did?" I grinned.

"You knew what you were doing," she shook her head playfully. "And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker."

"Sucker." We let our smiles fade as our comrade finally caught up to us. It may have been my job to drag everyone into the light, but I still had no idea what to say to Daryl. Was I supposed to say anything? When I was down, he just let me go through my shit. "You all right?" I decided to ask for the fourth time in four days. I knew he was getting sick of it.

He nodded as he walked through the space between Michonne and me.

She gave me a look that said I should try to talk to him, but I just shook my head. Daryl Dixon had never been a man of many words, but prying anything out of him in his grief was even less likely than us finding a car full of gas. I just followed behind him, and I would make sure he stayed where I could see him.

"You know," I started, once Michonne was walking that walk beside me again. "You're a good motivational speaker."

"Very funny," she smirked.

"I'm serious."

"Rick, I barely even talk to anyone but you and Carl."

"That's not true," I knew, just from seeing her interact with folks at the church. She and Maggie were talking quite a bit, from what I remember. She talked to Gabriel, and found Daryl in the woods… "You shouldn't sell yourself short. You made yourself a part of this group. I didn't do that."

She kept her eyes on the road ahead, but I could see the smile she was trying to hide. "Fair enough," she conceded. "But I still don't know what to say to him," she added, referring to our loss for words when it came to Daryl.

"Then maybe we just go… keep him company," I suggested.

She nodded, and together, we joined our friend. We didn't say anything, but I could tell, when Daryl looked at me, and then at her, that he felt comfort in our presence. In her presence. That was the thing about Michonne – and I loved that she didn't know it herself –  _she_  was the light.


	3. halfway there

We're somewhere near Charlotte, North Carolina when we have to stop. It actually surprises me that we've made it this far, considering how impossible it's been to find gas in any of these cars. Siphoning takes hours, but it's been working so far. So we're split up in groups doing exactly that.

I somehow got paired with Daryl for this mission, which I'm not used to. It's usually me and Rick these days, sometimes with Carl unless we tell him to hang back. But I suppose it's nice to have a change every now and then. I think Rick wanted to talk to Carol, and he's been wanting me to talk to Daryl for days now, so here we are. Slowly meandering around this foreign place, in search of fuel, water, and anything else that'll help us on the road.

"How does it feel to finally be out of Georgia," I decide to ask Daryl, hoping it will pull him out of his grief. For a few moments, anyway.

He looks at me with that ever-present grimace on his face, as if the sun is perpetually in his eyes. But the sun is hiding behind clouds today. That's just his face.

"It goes by faster if we talk," I say. We're supposed to rejoin our group in four hours. It'll be a long four hours if we keep going in silence.

"You ain't used to need to talk," he mumbles.

He's referring to the days when we still had the prison, and the two of us would go out trying to find The Governor. Things were different back then, he's right. I didn't talk because I had no interest in what other people had to say. I was consumed in my own sorrow. Losing Andre. Losing Mike. Losing Andrea. It ate away at me, and that's why I don't want this to happen to him. Beth wouldn't have wanted this.

"I didn't," I admit. "And I don't  _need_  to talk now. But I think you do."

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

He looks over at me with obvious shades of being irritated. "Like you know me so well."

"Maybe I don't," I allow. "But I know what it's like to feel loss that eats at you from the inside. And for me, the only way to get through it was to let myself feel it."

"That's you. That ain't me."

"Isn't it?" The way he looks at me then, as if he wants me to shut up, only propels me forward. I take a deep breath and reveal, "I lost my son, Daryl."

He stops walking then. "What?"

"I had a three-year-old," I say, turning to face him. "His name was Andre."

"You serious?"

"Of course I am," I frown. I don't want this to be the card I play whenever I'm trying to help someone, but it's the easiest way to connect to someone in pain. It instantly says,  _I know what you're going through. There's a way back._  "He died when all this started. And I blamed myself for a long time, because I couldn't save him," I add somewhat nervously. "Still do sometimes. But I had to forgive myself. In order to keep living, I had to make myself whole again. But that doesn't happen if you keep avoiding what's happening."

He begins chewing at his bottom lip, as he often does, while staring at the ground. It feels like he's on the verge of saying something. "You really feel better now?"

"I do," I promise. "That's not to say I don't hurt anymore. But I don't have that constant feeling of sadness tugging at me. It gets better, Daryl."

"How long did it take you?"

"Much longer than I would've liked. Not until I found you guys."

"You mean Rick."

"I mean all of you," I return genuinely. "Believe it or not, I consider you all to be my friends. My family."

He gives me an odd look as we continue walking. "Pain is inevitable. Sufferin' is optional."

I look over at him, surprised by his words. "What?"

"I said that to Carol a couple weeks ago. Didn't think too much of it, just wanted her to feel better."

"Why aren't you taking your own advice?"

"It's just hard," he admitted, just above a whisper. "I don't wanna feel it."

"Then that's your choice, I guess," I shrug. "I just didn't want you to be hurting and have no one to talk to."

"Even though we spent all that time on the road, and you was hurt about Andre. You didn't say anything."

I nod, granting him that fact. We were out there fairly often for a while. The man gave me fleas, for god's sake. And still, I didn't say anything. Never even thought to. "All right."

We continue down our designated road, collecting water from a creek for Rosita to sanitize once we return. We find a bit of gas in our silent exploits, though not enough to get us to Virginia, and then turn back down the road once it gets close to quitting time. The area is unusually free of walkers, and I'm glad for it, even if it means we've spent the past three hours in territory that's already been cleared. I'm just ready to get back.

"We used to make a good team," Daryl says randomly as we get closer to our group again.

"We did," I confirm, though I'm confused by the sudden sentiment. "Of course, I make a good team with everybody..."

He cracks a rare smile at my joke as he looks me in the eye, then pulls his stash of cigarettes from his pocket. "You ain't shit for that."

"My motivational speech obviously didn't work on you," I grin back. "Maybe humor will."

"It worked," he says unconvincingly. He lights his cigarette and takes a puff before offering it to me. Back in my miserable days, I would've accepted, but I decline today. "I just need some time," he adds.

"Well hurry up, because Rick needs you," I kid again.

"Rick don't need me."

"He does," I insist. "We all do."

"Rick needs  _you_ ," he counters more seriously this time. "You been his right hand man for a while now."

"You jealous?" I smirk.

He takes another pull from his cigarette, but doesn't say anything in reply.

* * *

We decide to put our road trip on pause for the evening. Glenn and Tara were able to rustle up some fish, and once we got the fire going, it just seemed like a good place to stop. Everyone's in a relatively good mood, the evening is warm, and the area is open, where we can see well in all directions.

I've been taking watch with Carl and Judith when Rick comes to join us with a bag in his hand and a smile on his face. "Fancy meeting you here," I greet him, watching him take a seat on the ground.

"I know," he returns, unable to stop himself from yawning. "I was gonna go to sleep, but when I saw y'all were up…"

"We're just sitting here," I assure him. "You can get some rest."

"No, I wanted to come hang out." He offers to take Judith from Carl and then hands over the big plastic bag he'd brought over. "Carol and I found some clothes we figured folks could use. This is our bag."

"You went shopping?" I smile, amused by the very thought. Especially when I think about him finding things for Judith. Whenever I dress her in a pair of mismatched socks, I remind myself that we have to get the child some more clothes.

"I suppose I did," he grins back, watching Carl go through the bag. "I wasn't sure of your size, so I apologize in advance if anything doesn't fit. I had to guess."

For some reason, I didn't realize I was included in his shopping spree. The idea of him looking for clothes for me is even funnier. I glance at him briefly, but quickly divert my attention back to Carl. "What's in there, kid?"

"A bunch of shirts for me," he says, pulling the contents out. "Diapers and dresses for Judith…" He sets those in his dad's lap as he continues through the bag. There are tank tops and t-shirts, fitted cargo pants, jeans, underwear, some washcloths.

"I mean… did you find a Target or somethin'?" I wonder jokingly.

"I didn't wanna leave anything," he chuckles. "The kids are gettin' bigger every time I turn around. I just wanna make sure they're all right."

"They're fine," I assure him with a small nod. "They've got you. They're fine."

"And you?" he asks, looking me in the eye.

I can feel Carl looking back and forth between us as we converse. It feels odd to have a spectator, given how often we speak in private. "I'm fine, too."

He nods and rests his hand on his son's back, holding Judith in the opposing arm. It reminds me how much I love seeing him in Dad mode. "You get enough to eat?" he asks Carl.

"I did," Carl nods, looking over at me. "Michonne gave me some of hers."

"You didn't have to do that," Rick tells me.

"He was still hungry," I shrug. "It's what we do."

He still looks bothered by it, but relents easily with a small smile. "Thank you."

I collect our new clothes, which – I won't lie – I'm excited to have, and start folding them in separate piles for each of us. I can't remember the last time I folded a man's underwear, yet here I am, doing it gleefully.

I can't help but wonder if this is our future. Family dinners and laundry to fold. It would be nice to have that again. Life on the road is… hard. All these broken people, trying their best to push on, when what they should be doing is healing. It's not fair to them. I just hope Richmond is the answer. I really, really do. Because how much more can we take?


	4. role reversal

We finally made it to Virginia yesterday. It had been two weeks since Beth died – seventeen days, to be exact – and I still felt the deep cuts that her death left with everyone. Maggie had been nearly catatonic, rendering Glenn just as silent. Daryl seemed to be trying, but failing to reconnect. Carol, I could tell, felt guilty, and so did Noah. So did Tyreese. So did I.

So Richmond, as much of a long shot as it was, needed to happen. It needed to be something we could hold onto. As I sat in the car with Tyreese, Noah, Glenn, and Michonne, on the way from Petersburg to Richmond, all I could think about was what our future could look like. Belonging to a community again would be an adjustment, for sure. Ideally, we could start from the ground up, like we did at the prison, but I was willing to see who these people were that Noah knew.

I imagined us having homes to live in. It would be so odd having a neighborhood like before. But if the place had walls, it could work. Carl could have his own bedroom again. Judith would finally have a crib. She's been sleeping in baskets and arms so long, she probably wouldn't know what to do with herself. That was all I thought about – what to do with her, with Carl. Where would I put them if Richmond didn't end up being a viable option? Michonne said we would keep going, but where?

Michonne. I loved her name. I never told her so, but from the first time I heard it, I thought it was gorgeous. Suited her to a tee. The few times we went on runs together, I thought of asking her what it meant, but never did. I always imagined her parents being Francophiles or something along those lines. She was probably raised in Paris and spent summers in Tokyo, and speaks four different languages, and knows something about everything; and somehow, the world decided to put her here. It didn't make sense. This fascinating, enchanting woman riding around in a hot, stinking car with me and three other guys she never would've known otherwise.

I wondered if she was thinking about that too. She looked so melancholy as we rode toward Richmond. Maybe contemplative was the better word, but to me, it was more morose than that. I hoped she wasn't losing hope. She was the only one I had left that wasn't completely jaded about this whole idea.

I gazed over at her, with her head rested against the window, until I caught her eye. With just a small frown, I gave my best attempt at asking her what was wrong without using any words.

She shook her head, only slightly, but I got the message. She was all right.

"You look sad," I mouthed to her. I didn't want the others in the car to know, if she was.

She offered a halfhearted smile and hit my knee softly, with a closed fist. "I'm fine," she returned silently.

I nodded and looked up towards the front, where Tyreese was driving, and Noah was co-co-piloting. It was his home we were headed to. "How far out?" I asked the young man.

For some inexplicable reason, he looked at the odometer instead of his surroundings and answered, "Five miles."

I grabbed my walkie – the ones we'd taken from the cops at Grady – and spoke to Carol for a moment to let her know our whereabouts. She said she would stand by, though I knew she was already over the trip. Taking all these back roads to side roads to a possibility of a chance wasn't anyone's idea of fun.

Still, once we got close to our destination, we veered off into the woods to head for Noah's neighborhood on foot. It seemed the closer we got, the quieter things seemed, which was never a good sign, to me. I either meant people were dead, or were off somewhere, pretending to be alive.

The place was called Shirewilt. It looked just like any other subdivision back home. Or what used to be home. I guess I couldn't call Georgia that anymore. Either way, Glenn's face when he glanced over the gate told me everything I needed to know. Shirewilt wouldn't be our address either.

Noah cried for his loss, understandably, but I was so focused on our next course of action, it took me a minute to process what was happening to him. The look on Michonne's face got me first, I guess. I could see her hope fading, her frustration mounting, and it matched what I felt internally. As we passed one another, I briefly brushed my hand over hers, just to remind her that we would be all right.

Once I offered Noah my condolences, I stood to address the other three. "We should see if there's anything we can use and then head back."

"Then what," Michonne shot back. The disappointment was written all over her face, but I didn't have a response for it. She seemed to gather as much, because she turned back towards the neighborhood and the walkers headed our way. "They see us," she announced quietly.

* * *

I had spent most of the morning trying to keep Michonne's spirits up, along with my own, but it wasn't working. She didn't want to get back on the road – that much was clear. But we couldn't stay there. And the more I kept trying to get that point across to her, the more she seemed annoyed by me.

"We came straight here," I told her, as we picked through some random bedroom of some random house. "There are other places we might've passed up along the way."

"I know, Rick," she spoke quietly. "I get how this works."

"I just don't want you to be sad is all."

"This isn't sadness," she retorted. She stopped what she was doing and dropped her bag to the floor. Her hands covered her face as she tried to put it into words. "This is frustration. This is me being  _tired_."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"Why is that whenever a man is uncomfortable with a woman feeling something, his solution is to try and run away?"

I tried not to appear confused as I looked at her, but I just didn't understand what was going on. "I just didn't wanna be bothering you if you don't wanna be bothered."

"You're not bothering me," she insisted, just as she began to pull at a difficult drawer. Much in the same way she had stomped the glass out of a frame earlier, she was taking out her anger on the dresser. There was no way she could tell what was inside, but she was so determined to get in the drawer, she had begun to pull out her sword.

"Michonne," I called out to her.

She looked back to me with weary eyes. Weary of me monitoring her, I was sure. "I'm fine, Rick. Really."

"I'm gonna go find Glenn so we can get Tyreese and Noah and get outta here."

She nodded, still eyeing the dresser like it was an enemy, and I headed on out of the house. I found Glenn down the block, gathering blankets and food. Seeing him with that garbage bag over his shoulder reminded me so much of when we left the farm and were wandering around Georgia for months on end. I swore I'd never go through that again.

"Michonne's waitin' for us," I announced, pushing the rest of my thoughts back down. I didn't have time for them then.

"You guys find anything good?" Glenn asked, following my lead. "A place to live, maybe?"

I didn't have an answer to that, so we just kept walking. I could see Michonne coming out of the house we'd been searching. She looked to be inspecting the garage and the surrounding areas as if she'd discovered something.

"We can put some of the garage doors together against the break," she declared, alluding to the area where the fences were torn down. "Park the car against them until we can break it back up. It can work."

I hated to shoot down her idea – it was the first time she seemed optimistic all day. But it couldn't work. "This place is surrounded by a forest. There's no sight lines." I watched her face visibly deflate as she let out a sigh. "Whoever, whatever… could be on top of us without us even knowing. That's probably what happened," I tried to explain.

"That's what happened to us," Glenn added, referencing the prison attack.

Michonne had gone from frustrated to aggravated, I knew. "We could start taking down the trees. We'll use them to build the walls up."

I didn't want to reject her again, but…

"Look," she insisted, leading the way towards the woodland we were nestled in. I noticed her walk was different than it usually was. Much more determined. She was desperate to make this work.

But the forest was covered with bodies. And not just the usual dead corpses we were used to, but someone – likely whoever attacked the place – cut these people in half. It was a sick sight. And the three of us knew then, it wasn't somewhere we could stay. I wouldn't have felt right, bringing my kids there, no matter how much we could fix.

"Doesn't matter," Glenn said dejectedly.

"What?" I frowned.

"Said you wondered if it even mattered if you killed her or not." He was talking about the conversation we'd had about Dawn. "Doesn't matter if you had done it; or if had; or that Daryl did. Doesn't matter…" Because this was what always happened.

"Washington." Michonne turned to face us again, that determination written all over her face now. "Eugene lied about a cure, but he thought of Washington for a reason."

"But he was lying…"

"About the cure," she returned quickly. "But he did the math and he realized that Washington was the place where there'd be a chance." She looked at me then, needing me to hear her. "We're close. What if there are people there? Huh? What if it's someplace that we can be safe?" She paused, watching me consider her words. "It's a hundred miles away. It's a possibility. It's a chance. Instead of just being out here. Instead of just making it." She looked to be on the verge of tears as she surmised what that actually meant. "Because right now? This is what making it looks like."

I stared at her, knowing she was right. I needed to believe she was right. But taking chances was something I was still working on.

"Don't you want one more day with a chance?"

I did. I started to nod, before being distracted by the sound of walkers. I needed to give her an answer quickly. "We should go," I agreed. I was nervous and therefore hesitant to agree, but I trusted her. "It's a hundred miles away. We should go to Washington."

The look on her face said it all. And I knew she thought I was dismissing her again, but when she realized that I was agreeing, I think both of us instantly felt better.

But then came the yelling. Noah's yelling for help, to be exact. And then came the news that Tyreese had been bitten. I tried not to let it shake me, but as we ran to that house, all I could think was,  _Please don't let this man die_. Let it be an arm or a leg; something we could chop off if we needed to. We got there, and it was an arm. But I saw how pale he was, I felt how warm he was, and I knew.

That didn't stop us from giving it everything we had. We ran two miles, carrying him every step of the way. Through walkers, and wire traps, and being covered in blood. He was getting warmer by the second, but the four of us knew we could not give up on him. He would never have given up on us. But we had only been driving a couple of miles when Glenn called my name. I knew what it meant. I knew before, but I really knew then. It was over.

What I didn't know was how I was going to tell Sasha that we lost her brother. It was such a simple mission. I wasn't even sure what happened myself, and still, I was going to have to tell my people that we'd lost someone else. Two weeks after Beth. Seventeen days, to be exact. And now, Tyreese. I wanted to roll over and die myself.

* * *

It was getting dark by the time I finished burying our friend. I wanted to get back on the road to Washington and just drive through the night. The sooner we got there, the better, I figured. But Michonne was nowhere in sight. In fact, I hadn't seen her since we'd returned from Richmond. I got so busy trying to take care of Tyreese, I didn't have time to notice she was gone.

She had been so sad all day, even if she tried to deny it. I didn't know what was wrong, exactly, but I could guess that another loss only made it worse. So I went off to find her. Daryl said he'd seen her walk back towards the creek we were using for water, so I headed that way in hopes that she was still there.

When I found her, standing by herself at the creek, she took my breath away. Her back was towards me, but her posture, the way she held her sword, her head tilted just slightly towards the sky, with the setting sun bouncing off of her. A light breeze had her dreadlocks swaying in the wind. It was almost ethereal. She made broken look beautiful, and strong look invincible. She had the universe on her shoulders, and made it look like a pair of wings. I realized then that I needed her so much more than she could ever need me, and still, I wanted to be there for her.

"It's me," I announced as I moved toward her, not wanting to startle her. I hated to even disturb her, but I would always make sure she was all right.

She didn't respond, but bowed her head then. I kept walking until I was right behind her, and softly placed my hands on her shoulders. I expected her to flinch in response, but it was more like she relaxed at my touch. I rested my head against hers, and we stood there, just staring at the water for a moment. Regardless of the world stopping, that water kept moving along. And we would have to do the same.

"It's another bad day," I reminded her softly. "Not a bad life."

With a wobbly exhale, she leaned back into me and shook her head slowly. "They're really piling up, these bad days."

"They are," I agreed. "But this is what makes the good ones worth it."

There was no way around pain – it demanded to be felt. But Michonne was the one who taught me, when Beth died right after Bob, that we did not have to be defined by another loss. That was still true. And we would keep moving.


	5. trust issues

It's fairly early in the morning as I head into the woods. I'd guess it's around 6:00, but sometimes it's hard to tell. Following weather patterns and such to try and guesstimate the days of the year and the times of the day. Rick and Glenn have watches, but who knows if they're right? I suppose it doesn't matter. It's always right now, as Hershel would say.

It strikes me then how much I miss that man. Don't get me wrong - I miss Tyreese, even if we never really spoke. He saved Judith, so I knew he was a good man. And I miss Beth, even if I took for granted what she meant to this group. But I really miss Hershel. From the moment we first spoke, I knew he was someone I needed to listen to. I had a respect for him I'd never had for anyone.

But I suppose it's best that he died when he did. He wouldn't have wanted to see us like this. Tired, and starving, and desperate for a home. We're on our last leg out here in the wilderness. I told Rick we've nearly been out here too long, and I meant that with every fiber of my being. We thought the road to Terminus was rough, but it was nothing compared to this voyage to Washington. I honestly don't know how much longer we've got.

I continue to wander through the woods, along with my mind, and I stumble upon Rick, who'd obviously left the group to relieve himself. We're always in sync, it seems, because so did I. I hadn't meant to startle him, but I suppose I did, because he turns to me before he can think about zipping back up.

"I'm so sorry," I tell him, immediately turning away. It's mostly to give him privacy, but I'm also hiding a giant smile. I mean…  _Hello, Officer_. I know I should feel bad for sneaking a peek, and objectifying him in the process, but I don't. I'll just say it's been a  _long_  time. "I didn't know anyone was out here," I add once I'm done thinking about it.

"It's fine," he says calmly. I can hear his feet crunching the leaves as he comes and stands beside me, gazing at the side of my face. "I've walked up on worse, if it makes you feel any better."

"Is that so?" I ask, eventually looking back at him. It's safe to say I will never see him quite the same way again.

"Especially at the prison. I've seen more blow jobs than I've ever wanted to see."

I laugh out loud. I didn't expect him to say that. And now a part of me is curious who he's walked in on. But that's none of my business. "I can imagine..."

"Trust me, you don't want to."

Now I'm really curious. How did I not know this was a common thing? "I'm really tempted to ask for details, but I won't."

He nods in reply with a small smile on his face. Our moment of levity then slowly dissipates as he stares up into the sky with that famous Rick Grimes squint. He looks back at me expectantly. "Is everything all right?"

"As all right as it's gonna be, I guess."

"So you weren't lookin' for me for a reason?"

"Believe it or not, I actually wasn't looking for you," I reveal, amused. "I had to pee, too."

"Oh." He chuckles and takes a few steps away from me, turning his back. "Don't let me stop you."

I look at the back of him as if he's lost his mind. Apparently, that beard isn't the only thing about him that's crazy. "What are you doing?"

"You need more space than that?" He asks, turning only his head towards me.

What the… "You can just go back to our camp, you know."

"You shouldn't be out here alone," he responds hoarsely.

"You were."

"Maybe I knew you'd find me." I can see the smirk on the side of his face and wonder if he's flirting with me. I suppose not if I have to ask. "If you must know," he goes on, "I did wanna talk to you about Washington."

"Okay..."

I continue to stand there, just watching the back of him. I was thankful we found new clothes for obvious reasons, but Rick's new shirt somehow moved to the top of the list over the last few days. I joked with him that it was the color of dried blood, which I was sick of seeing, but I didn't mention the part where I shamelessly enjoyed how snug it was. How it clung to his frame, and when he sweat, I could see his muscles contracting beneath the damp fabric. That was also none of my business.

"Are you gonna talk?" I ask when I realize we've both been silent.

"I was waiting for you to finish…"

"Oh, you were serious," I realize with a short chuckle.

"It's not like you've got anything I haven't seen, you know."

So I guess we are flirting then. "I guarantee you haven't seen this before," I shoot back as I unzip my pants. I pop a squat and handle my business while he taps his fingers on the handle of his machete. It surprises me how much I don't mind that he's standing there. I don't know when we became this comfortable with each other.

As I stand back up, I feel an enormous pain shoot through my lower jaw. I took an accidental elbow from Sasha a couple of days ago, and now I've got some kind of intermittently dreadful tooth pain. Just what I need.

"I'm done," I tell him, holding my cheek in pain.

He looks back at me with narrowed eyes. "You all right?"

"I think so."

"It's been three days now," he says. I appreciate that with everything else going on, he's noticed such a thing. "Did she knock it loose?"

"It's not loose. It just hurts."

"The bruise is healing," he offers, his eyes roaming over the side of my face again. We begin to head back in the direction of our camp. "Maybe we'll find a dentist in DC."

"Very funny," I smile, despite the ache. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"We're gettin' close," he answers. "Once we get right outside the city, we're gonna have to split off again. I'm thinkin' you, me, Glenn, and Rosita."

We both know that Sasha, Daryl, and Maggie are still too grief-stricken, but I don't realize until then how much it's affecting our group's strength. "…How about Abraham?"

"I still don't know about him," he sighs. "After what Glenn said he did to Eugene, I'm not sure how much I trust him in a tense situation."

"Well he's about all we've got left right now."

"You're right," he says glancing down at me. "Which effectively means we're fucked."

"We're not," I chuckle. "We'll just take it slow into DC, same as we did with Richmond."

He nods in agreement, and we continue our short stroll until we hear a rustling in the leaves that isn't either one of us. We simultaneously draw our weapons – me with my katana, Rick with his Python – and hold until the sound becomes a sight. It's Maggie and Sasha.

"Everything all right?" he asks. He asks that all the time, I've noticed.

"We were just comin' to find you," Maggie announces with an apprehensive look on her face. She looks less sad, at least.

"What's wrong?"

"Some guy," Sasha says, with a frown on her face. She sees Rick ready to take off, but quickly allays his fears. "We've got it handled. We checked him for weapons, got his bag, Daryl and Carol are guarding him, and we've got Glenn and Abraham keeping watch outside."

Rick and I look at each other uncertainly and then back to the two women in front of us. "What does he want?" I wonder cautiously.

"His name is Aaron," says Maggie. "He wants to talk to Rick. He claims he's got a community, and he wants us to join."

* * *

"We're gonna take a vote," Rick announces as he circles the barn we've been staying in. He's got a baby in one hand and a gun in the other – quintessential Rick Grimes. "If you wanna go to this alleged community, I want you on my right. If you don't trust it, have no interest in goin', get to the left side of the barn."

I watch as everyone ponders their decision. It's so hard to know what the right choice is. Aaron is selling a serious dream here – not only safety, but electricity, and water, and homes of our own. If this comes true, it ostensibly changes our lives forever. How can we turn that down? It's one more day with a chance.

It's interesting to see the divide. Maggie, Rosita, Eugene, and Tara are all on the right side of the room. Daryl eventually joins them, and I can't help but look at him with a bit of surprise. Carl moves over there once everyone else has lined up. On the left side, there's Carol, Glenn, and Sasha, followed quickly by Abraham. Noah takes his time making his way next to them, and finally, Gabriel. So far, we've got ourselves a tie. I still haven't chosen, and neither has Rick.

"All right," he nods, walking to the left side of the room with his daughter. I think he expects me to follow, but… I can't.

I go and stand beside Carl, while Rick stares at me the entire time. It almost feels like I'm betraying him, but I can't feel bad. I need this.  _We_  need this.

"Some vote," Abraham comments, noting that we're at a standstill. Seven on one side, seven on the other. I think we're all in agreement we can't count Judith.

We all remain there, avoiding each other's gazes for minutes on end. Aaron seems to know better than to interrupt since Rick sucker-punched him not too long ago. But he must think we're insane. We're not. And I understand why people are skeptical. I am too, but I know how important it is that we give this a try.

"Rick," I quietly call across the barn. My eyes fall on his for a long time, hoping he's able to read me as well as he normally does. Those piercing blue irises are boring into me, but he doesn't speak. It feels like everyone is staring at the two of us, waiting for Mom and Dad to either agree or disagree. "Can we talk outside?" I finally request.

I head outside before he can give me an answer, but he's just a few steps behind, without Judith now. I can see his defenses up, the way they were back at Grady. He's been through so much, he can't even fathom the idea that this could be real. And I get it – in the past month alone, we've dealt with The Governor, Terminus, and Grady. It's probably more insane that I'm actually willing to take this chance.

We stand near the car that Aaron apparently brought here, and I look at him inquisitively. "What happened to jumping?" I ask, referring to our conversation the night Beth died. He promised we'd take a leap of faith. "What happened to dragging everyone into the light?"

He rests his arm against the side of the car and gazes out into the forest ahead of us. "How do I know that's what this is? How do I know it's not more darkness?"

"You don't," I admit. "But how do you find out for sure unless we check it out?"

"I don't know if I can take that chance, Michonne."

"So instead you pass up on a place we may be able to live? A place where Carl and Judith can live," I press, demanding his gaze back. "That's pretty dangerous."

He obliges, looking me in the eye as he asks, "When you first came up on the walls outside of Woodbury, what did you hear?"

I only have to think for a second to recall. "Nothing."

"And Terminus?"

I get it then. I get it even more than I did before. "Nothing."

He nods, understanding that I understand. "So we go to this place. And at some point, we'll be outside his camp's walls. And without seeing inside, I'm gonna have to decide whether to bring my family in. And that includes you, you know." His stare softens as he speaks. "He asked me before, what it would take for me to believe it was real. Truth is, I'm not sure if anything can convince me to go in there," he confesses. "But I trust you. So I'll go see."

I can feel the tension in my face instantly melt away. This is the second time in just a couple of days that he's conceded to what I think we should do; and for a guy with as many trust issues as Rick has, I know how huge that is. I know how hard it is. I appreciate it. And I appreciate him for not making this any harder than it already is. I give him a small grin and simply say, "Okay."

"But we're gonna do it my way," he has to add. "I  _don't_  trust him."

"Whatever it takes to get there," I concur. "Just as long as we get there."

He looks at me strangely, as if I've said something in code, but he eventually nods in agreement. "All right."

He begins to head inside, presumably to alert the troops, but I call out to him before he can get there. "Hey." I wait for him to turn back to me before speaking again. "I trust you, too, Rick. Completely."

A smirk crosses his dirty beautiful features and he offers half a shrug. "You peed in front of me this morning, so… I would hope so."

I can't help but smile widely as I watch him disappear. That man, I swear.


	6. at alexandria

We pulled up the gates of this mysterious land of Alexandria, and I couldn't have been more terrified. I also couldn't have been more relieved to have Michonne by my side. We drove separate from everyone else, because that's what we always did, and in this case, I really needed it. She understood my plight better than anyone, and I couldn't think of any way I would've rather experienced that moment.

I told her before, I didn't know what I could possibly hear outside those gates that would make me go in, but my question was answered as I rolled down the window to listen. Children. Laughter. Playing. That was it. Exactly what I needed to hear. The weight of the unknown had been crushing me, and I instantly felt it lifting as I heard the sounds of life beyond those walls.

Michonne looked at me, and I looked at her, and we both knew that this was the start we needed. I had no more excuses not to jump. She glanced briefly at my hand resting on the steering wheel, and softly placed her hand over mine. I let my thumb cover hers. "You ready?"

I had to be. We spent all this time trying to find a new home, and here it could be. It was time to stop running. I nodded nervously as she let me go, and we exited the car in unison. I grabbed Judith while she followed Carl to join the rest of the group. A few small steps for me could end up being one giant leap for my family.

When we went inside those gates, it felt like we'd entered some alternate universe. The community, which was covered by a big, ugly steel wall, was pristine inside. Beautiful homes dotted the sidewalks, along with mailboxes and gardens. Children running in the streets, as I'd heard just a few seconds before. A woman in a cardigan was walking with a casserole dish in her hand. This place had somehow missed the memo that the world had ended. It looked like a scene out of Desperate Housewives.

"What the hell," I could hear Tara say somewhere behind me, and I think she echoed all of our sentiments. We had obviously just entered the twilight zone.

I looked back at Michonne, who seemed to be scowling at the man that had come to greet us. "What do you think?" I mouthed to her.

Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "Can't tell yet."

I nodded and turned just in time to see another resident come walking towards us. She had a smile on her face, but a gun in her hand. That was more like it.

Aaron stepped forward to introduce us to the new guys. It felt a bit like he was bringing a bunch of animals home from the wild. "Guys, it's fine," he kept saying, trying to lure us deeper inside the neighborhood. "This is Nick," he revealed, referring to the gatekeeper. "And this is Rachael." He went on to tell the two all of our names and that he was going to take us over to someone named Deanna.

"Who's Deanna," Abraham demanded from the back of the group.

"She's the leader here," Rachael answered calmly. "She's gonna interview you, and if she thinks you're a good fit, she'll send you my way so I can give you a tour and get you into some homes." She smiled at me and then at Judith as she pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail. "If you guys decide to stay, of course."

"Why would we need a tour?" Maggie piped up. "Isn't it just a bunch of houses?"

"Well. Yes," she chuckled. "But we've got a designated home for the pantry, which is basically our grocery store. There's the school, where I'm guessing this guy will be headed every day," she pointed to Carl. "There's the infirmary, the armory, the laundromat."

I could hear the excited whispers of everyone behind me, but it sounded a bit too good to be true for me. "All that, huh?"

"We worked hard to get it all up and running, but… so far, so good."

"Rachael knows everything about this place," Aaron informed us as we continued inside. "If you have any questions about anything, she's the person you wanna talk to."

"Not Deanna?" I confirmed.

"You can always see Deanna," she clarified, looking back at me. She had some hint of Boston in her accent, I noticed. "And if you can't find her, I'll find her for you. The point is, we're here for you guys."

As we walked, Michonne sidled up to me and began to take Judith from my clutches. "You should talk to her first," she said quietly. "If you don't like it, no point in the rest of us doing this dance."

I glanced back at her, glad that she still trusted my judgment after everything we'd been through in the past couple of days. But this was obviously a situation none of us quite knew how to navigate. "I think we're gonna need each other on this one," I countered. "I'll go first, you go second."

She nodded as we continued to follow Aaron and Rachael. "I like both of them, though," she submitted with a shrug.

"Both of who?"

"Aaron. And this one," she pointed to Rachael. "I know we just met her, but…"

"She seems comfortable with people," I finished for her. I'd observed the same.

"And my bullshit meter didn't go off with her either. Not like it did with Gareth or The Governor."

"Yeah," I nodded, coming to a stop behind our tour guides. We stood in front of a giant home, resembling more of a mansion than the rest of the neighborhood.

"This is Deanna's house," Rachael declared, answering my unvoiced question. "She takes in kids that've lost their parents, so… she gets the big one."

"How many kids are here?" I asked, looking back at Carl.

"Eleven," she shot off quickly. "Fourteen if we include your kids?" She wasn't sure where to group Noah exactly. "Four live with Deanna."

"Wow." It was hard to admit, but I kind of liked this woman already. Taking in orphaned kids was no easy feat, no matter how you sliced it. So long as she wasn't eating them, I had to believe she was more good than bad. I looked over to Michonne again with a small smile on my face. "I think we might be staying."

"Sounds like it's a good thing I dragged you here then, huh?"

* * *

"I know we're a big group, but we don't need five houses," I told Rachael, as we stood outside one of the many residences being offered to us. For free. "Two is fine. Maybe three, at most."

"Nonsense," she grinned up at me, covering her hazel-green eyes from the setting sun. "Most of the houses are three beds, two baths. There's no reason to cram four or five of you into one spot when we have all this open space."

"Five is a lot."

"Aaron says you've been living in cars for the better part of three weeks. Maybe take the space now, and if you'd rather be close, you can always band back together."

I couldn't help but find her insistence on splitting us up a bit suspicious. I would make sure to tell the rest of the group we'd be sleeping in the same house for the time being. But I nodded at her as if I agreed. "We're not used to having room."

"I would imagine it feels a lot safer, being close-knit like that," she nodded as well. I noticed then that her voice had a very soothing cadence about it. "Listen… we're not gonna make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. We understand that you're gonna wanna call your own shots for a while."

"We will," I confirmed, as my eyes drifted to the scenery behind her. Carl was coming up the hill along with Glenn and Eugene. "Until we trust you."

"Well, until then," she said, handing me several different keys, all at once, "pretend we're a resort. Explore. Take advantage of the amenities. Take a shower and a shave. Relax."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that that was a thing these people did. Relax. I wasn't even sure I knew what that meant anymore. "I'll try."

"Please do." She turned to greet the rest of the approaching group. "I'm sure you'll wanna have dinner amongst yourselves, but Carl and Noah are welcome to come hang out at my house, if it's okay with you and Michonne. My daughter is probably right between them in age. And she's an expert Black Ops player."

I couldn't help but glance at her for a moment, surprised that she would have a teenager. Maybe it was the freckles on her face that made her seem younger than she actually was. "I think… maybe tomorrow?" I suggested, not wanting to decline completely. I didn't miss the fact that Carl's face lit up at the mention of Call of Duty. "Once we get a little more acclimated."

"Of course," she smiled at me, then at Carl. "I'll leave you guys to get settled, but if you need anything at all, where am I?"

"Third house up on the left," I knew from when she'd shown me earlier.

"And where's Aaron?"

"Fourth house up on the left," I chuckled, shaking my head. "I may be a man, but I think I can follow a few simple directions."

"Just making sure." She gave Eugene a pat on his back before heading off in the direction of her house. "All right guys. Have a good night."

"Thank you," Carl called after her before looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I frowned at him.

"I really wanted to play Call of Duty."

"Well I really want you to live, so… maybe we see what this place is like before you go runnin' off to some stranger's home."

"She seems nice, though."

"She does," I had to admit. "And I liked Deanna, too." Maybe there was something about the place being run by women. It was definitely a change of pace. "But we still don't know these people."

"Well can we at least ask if we can borrow Black Ops? I can't remember the last time I saw a TV that worked."

I hated to laugh at the kid, because I knew how anxious he must have been to get back to some semblance of our old lives. But we just couldn't do this blindly. We still had to be careful. I handed him the keys to one of our new homes and offered him a promise. "Tomorrow," I said simply. "Tonight, we're with family."

* * *

A few hours later, I not only had a shower and a shave, but a haircut, thanks to Rosita, and was just about to sit down to dinner, thanks to Carol. That was when Michonne finally made her reappearance with her new toothbrush in hand.

She sighed happily as she entered the living room, wearing one of the shirts I'd gotten her a few days prior. "How long was I in there?"

I couldn't help but take notice of how happy she was to be clean. She was nearly shining. "Twenty minutes," I eventually answered. I knew because I was wondering where she'd gone.

"I could not stop brushing." It took her a moment to come down from her high, but when she did, she smiled at me brightly, proving her very statement. Those pearly whites were on full display. "I've… I've never seen your face like that," she said to me.

"I've never seen  _your_  face like that," I shot back, trying not to blush. But I meant it. She really was glowing. We stood there staring at each other for a bit too long, until the clang of pots knocked me out of my stupor. "I, umm… I think dinner's ready."

She nodded, and we both headed for the dining room table, where everyone else was already seated. There was some sort of goulash in the center, along with wine glasses and a couple of bottles of red on either side. The two of us took it upon ourselves to begin pouring.

"So I guess we're celebrating," I declared with a smile on my face, glancing at everyone looking clean and well rested. As I got to Carl's seat, I stopped to see if he would take the bait.

"I think I'm good," he declined, probably still having memories of the first time he tried wine back at the CDC.

"It's good for you," Michonne said from across the table with a smirk on her face. "Try just a little."

"Only for you would I do this," he conceded with a bashful smile, holding his glass for me.

"Like father, like son," Carol proclaimed, causing the entire table to laugh.

I wasn't sure if I knew what she meant by that, but I laughed anyway as I continued down the line. Sometimes I didn't realize what a big group we were, but as I emptied the bottle on just half the table, it hit me again. We were huge. And just the day before, we were all roaming the countryside, praying for some miracle space that would comfortably hold all of us. We were running on empty, and somehow, we'd managed to find exactly what we needed. Or maybe it found us. I wasn't even sure anymore.

What I was sure about was that I'd walked into this place with so many fears and apprehensions, it was nearly crippling me. And in just a few hours, they were melting away at every turn. I liked how it felt there. And as I stood there, watching everyone smile genuinely for the first time in a long time, I realized that I liked how  _I_ felt there. Normal again.

I caught Michonne's eye once she was done checking on everyone else, and gestured for her to follow me to the kitchen, away from the group.

"What's wrong?" she asked, gazing up at me uneasily. Her big brown eyes were instinctively searching my face for something to fix.

"Nothing's wrong," I assured her quickly, setting my glass on the counter beside us. "Finally. Right?"

Her face immediately relaxed and she smiled again. "Right."

"So I think we do some exploring tonight, tomorrow, then maybe tomorrow night, we have everyone move into their own homes."

She nodded in agreement, glancing around the kitchen. "Tonight? You gonna take a walk?"

"I am." I looked out of the nearest window – there were windows everywhere – already planning my route. "You can take the big bedroom with Carl and Judith for the night. If you want. There's a king-sized bed in there."

"We can share it," she shrugged. "Should be much easier now that you don't smell like a stray dog."

"That's very funny," I chuckled. "You didn't smell all that great yourself, you know."

"Hey, I never claimed to be perfect. But I guarantee I smelled better than you."

"Okay, keep it coming," I nodded jokingly. She obviously had some pent up frustration about the odors she had to endure. "Go on and get it out."

"I'm done." She held her hands up in quiet surrender, but couldn't help herself from continuing. "But do you understand that you had an actual layer of dirt covering your face? I mean, you even left a handprint on Deanna's wall," she grinned, looking back to the rest of the group for a short moment. "And that beard..."

"Okay, I think I got it," I laughed again in amusement.

"But you do look quite perfect just like this."

I smiled, but I didn't know what to say in response to that. Thanking her would have made it seem like I agreed. So I just smiled.

We could hear laughter from the other room again, and it was obvious we were missing something. "We should go eat," she said softly.

I nodded, but she didn't leave and neither did I. Our eyes stayed locked on one another, and it was like I couldn't move. In fact, I found myself feeling nervous. Jittery. Some weird shit was happening in my stomach that I hadn't felt in years. Butterflies, maybe? I think I would've leaned in to kiss her if our entire family hadn't been sitting just a few feet away.

She seemed to be holding her breath until she finally spoke out loud again. But just barely. "I should…" She finally broke our eye contact as she shook her head, and probably the moment away. She softly placed her hand over mine, where it rested on the counter, and gave it a quick squeeze before letting go. "Let's eat."


	7. friend zone

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping, and for a moment – just a fraction of a moment – I think that life has gone back to normal. I'm in this giant bed, in this giant bedroom, underneath this giant comforter. I mean, I slept so well, I've forgotten where I am. And I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. Alexandria has been good to us, but I'm trying to steel myself for the inevitable. This place almost seems too good to be true. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In the meantime, I guess it's okay to enjoy things. Last night, we did exactly that and enjoyed a meal together. All fifteen of us. Of course, we did that on the road as well, sitting in the woods, eating dog meat and rationing water. But I think I can speak for everyone when I say beef stew and red wine is an infinitely better dining option.

One thing that did freak me out a little? And it has nothing to do with Alexandria, but there was this moment Rick and I shared. I don't know if I was reading it incorrectly, but I swear he was on the verge of kissing me. I could see it in his eyes. And I imagine he probably would have if everyone we know hadn't been sitting ten feet away. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

Thrilling because, well, I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about him in that way. Us, I suppose. And Rick is undeniably attractive. Especially now that that damn beard is gone. I could easily see us going down that road. But I could just as easily see us ruining everything we've worked so hard to build if we went down that road, which is what makes this equally as terrifying.

Sure, we've always trusted each other. Even when we didn't trust each other. But our relationship is so special. To get to the point where we can communicate fully without having to say a lot of words took time. And this trip to Washington has stripped us of some of that. I feel like we've been on different pages lately. I can only imagine that being magnified if we try and enter that awkward territory of "relationship." So I don't know. I hope I misread that last night.

The irony of it all is that he's asleep less than two feet away from me. Granted, his children are between us, but the fact remains, we slept in the same bed last night. Again. So I'm probably coming to my epiphany a little bit late in the game.

I quietly roll out of bed to use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and all the usual morning routine type of things I haven't done since we left the prison. And even then, it was a communal bathroom situation, so having privacy feels very foreign. And hot water? It's nearly a miracle.

When I retreat from the bathroom, Rick is sitting up, running his hands through his shortened hair. He looks at me with a sleepy smile. "Hey."

"Hey," I whisper, not wanting to wake the kids. "Sleep well?"

"I did." He stands to meet me at the bathroom door, presumably, so we don't have to speak across the large space. "You?"

"No complaints," I smile at him. Truth is, my tooth still hurts, and I can't sleep on the right side of my face, but I feel silly complaining about that when we've got so much good going for us. "I was gonna go see what kinda breakfast I can scrounge up for everyone."

He nods, looking back at the kids. "I'll join you."

"All right," I answer. I begin to move out of his way and we clumsily exchange positions in the doorway, nearly bumping into one another. "Oh, hey," I remember before I leave, "did you see anything weird on your walk last night?"

"Not particularly," he shrugs, beginning to turn on the water in the sink. "Met Deanna's husband briefly."

"He was out?"

"Smoking," he nodded. "Is that weird? I can't even tell anymore."

I'm actually not sure myself. We would've thought nothing of it at the prison. "Probably not," I decide.

"Most folks' lights were out, which is what you'd expect at one in the morning."

"Yeah..."

"So we'll go out after breakfast, see what it's like in the day," he figures, beginning to brush his teeth. "Then we can talk about housing arrangements."

"Sounds good," I smile awkwardly, making my way out of the room.

When I get downstairs, the living room is still full of sleeping occupants. Aside from Carol, who's sitting in the dining room, writing something on a notepad, and Daryl, sitting at the kitchen counter, I think everyone is asleep.

"Hey," I greet him quietly as he stares at the refrigerator door, seemingly angry. "You okay?"

"Yup," he mumbles, taking a drink from a glass of water. "What you doin' up so early?"

"I was done sleeping," I shrug. I make my way to the pantry, examining its contents for any breakfast-type foods, and pull out a bag of Hawaiian coffee beans. Fancy. "Thought I'd make everyone some breakfast," I comment to Daryl.

"I think Carol was just about to go over and pick up some stuff."

"Oh." I stop my search, not wanting to step on her toes. "Then I'll just make coffee for everyone."

"You a homemaker all of a sudden?" he smirks.

"Maybe that's what I was before," I shoot back. "You don't know my life."

"I know you were one of them 'I like art' type girls."

I quietly laugh at this assessment, mostly because he's right, and begin to familiarize myself with the coffee maker. It's not my trusty Keurig, but it's extravagant, nonetheless, so this batch of brew will likely be the experimental one. "You drink coffee, Daryl?"

"I drink whatever's available now."

"Fair enough," I smile back at him.

His eyes seem to be studying me before he responds. "You sure seem to be in a good mood today."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Nah. Just noticin' is all."

I silently continue to fiddle with the machine, finally finding that a grinder is hidden inside. Now I just need a measuring cup. I turn to start searching the cabinets, when Rick comes strolling in, in a breeze of Colgate and Lever 2000. I imagine this is what he must've smelled like in the old days.

"Mornin'," he says to Daryl, then joins me near the sink. "What'd you decide to make?"

"Carol is going to 'the store,' so just coffee."

"We have coffee?" He seems intrigued by the idea and peeks into the maker. "The more I learn about this place, the more I like it. That never happens." He turns back to Daryl, who still seems completely uninterested in any of this. "You all right over there?"

"I would be if everyone stopped askin' me that," he grumbled. "You'd think I was fuckin' suicidal or somethin'."

Rick gives me a look, and I instantly know what it means.  _Talk to him_. I'm not sure why he feels like he can't talk to Daryl himself anymore, but I'm not going to push the issue. I just nod and continue with my tasks.

"I'm sorry," Rick tells him sincerely. "I just worry about you. All of you."

Daryl nods slightly as he looks down from the conversation. "How much longer we all gonna be shacked up together like this?"

I frown, trying to get a good read on exactly what's going on with him, but I can't. He seems to be mad at several different things at once.

"I was thinkin' we could all go out as a group today, see what we see," Rick reveals quietly.

"And if everything checks out, we can split up tonight or tomorrow," I add. "If everyone is okay with that.

Daryl chuckles, but it sounds more like a scoff coming from him. "You two just finish each other's sentences now, huh?"

Rick looks at me strangely, as if he's expecting me to have a response to that, but he speaks instead. "We've just... discussed it already."

This entire exchange feels very weird, and I don't know why. "Maybe... you should get the kids up."

"Yeah," he nods. "I'm gonna go do that."

I start to move, in search of the measuring cups that I still haven't found, and Rick and I awkwardly bump into one another again, similar to the way we passed in the bathroom upstairs. I feel so self-conscious around him suddenly. It's as if my body and mind are having some odd chemical reaction to this new environment.

As Rick leaves, I can hear Daryl let out a big sigh and it puzzles me. Daryl was one of the seven that voted to come here, as opposed to Rick; but you would think it was the other way around, the way the two of them are adapting to this place. "I thought you wanted this," I say, deciding to just cut right to the chase. "What happened?"

"I did," he confirms. "I do. I just don't know what to make of all of it yet."

"Make of all what, exactly?"

"I mean… when dude said he had a community, I thought he meant somethin' like the prison. Somewhere to make a life. I didn't think it would be fuckin' Alice in Wonderland, and a bunch of pussies runnin' around clingin' to their old lives."

I can't help but laugh at the fact that I'm grinding coffee beans as he says this. "You callin' me a pussy?" I joke, glancing back at him.

"Not yet. But you keep whining over coffee and I just might."

"That's very funny," I say as I finally close the lid on this task. I take a seat at the counter across from him, and offer a comforting smile. "There's nothing wrong with having or wanting nice things. We've suffered long enough, haven't we?"

"We have been through hell," he agrees, his eyes flitting downward. "I just feel… lost here."

"I can't remember the last time I didn't feel lost," I chuckle softly. "But if we're gonna be lost, it might as well be in a place like this."

He lets out a small laugh himself and looks up at me again. "If only we'd found this place sooner. Maybe Beth and Ty and Bob would still be here."

"Maybe," I nod sadly. "Or maybe they're the ones that led us here. Who knows. But I think we owe it to them to give it a chance. To try and make a home here."

He sighs again and gives me a nod to say he'll do that. "I just know my house better have a kitchen just like this, or I'm callin' bullshit."

"Oh, please. Like you're gonna use it."

"I been feedin' myself all my life," he reminds me. "I can throw down in the kitchen, girl."

"Shut up," I cover my mouth so as not to wake everyone with my laughter. "I need receipts."

"Hey, I'll make dinner for everyone tonight."

I can't help but stare at him for a moment, unsure of whether he's serious. "You better not be fucking with me."

"I'm not." He smiles for what must be the first time in ages as he finishes off his water. "You gonna wish you had me over here cookin' for you on the regular after tonight."

"Oh, over here?" I say jokingly. "Is this where I'll be living?"

"Ain't it?"

"I honestly don't know," I shrug. "I think it's the assumption that Rick will live here since it's closest to the front."

"Right." He glances back into the living room, where people are beginning to stir. "So you really want me to believe you're gonna live somewhere other than with Rick?"

"We're not attached at the hip, you know."

"Right."

"Stop saying that," I frown at him nervously. "I think he may ask me to stay here, but… I don't know if that's the best idea."

His eyes drop to his empty glass for a second, and then back up to me. "Why's that?"

"That's the thing," I shake my head. "I don't know why."

"Makes more sense than anything else."

"On paper, I guess it does," I nod, having thought the same thing myself. "But it feels like we'd end up falling into a relationship, which… I don't know. That was never on the table."

"You're basically in a relationship now."

"No, we're friends now," I retort adamantly. "And I enjoy our friendship more than anything. We have this… connection, and I don't wanna make it awkward by turning into 'roommates.' Because then we'll end up screwing. Isn't that what always happens?"

"I wouldn't know anything about it," he smirks.

"Well…" I sigh. "I don't know what I'm gonna say if he does ask. Because he means way too much to me to fuck this up."

Daryl nods and bites his lip in the same way he always does when he's thinking about something. He hops up from his seat, likely to avoid my gaze as he says, "You can live with me then."

I look back at him, where he stands at the sink, again, wondering if he's serious. "You sure I'm cool enough for you?"

"For me? Yeah. Maybe not for Carol, though."

I smile at the idea immediately. Living with Daryl and Carol. Avoiding the inevitable awkwardness of shacking up with Rick. Maybe now I can stop walking around like a scared puppy, worried about losing my best friend. I think this just might solve everything.

* * *

That afternoon, the group has finally made its way out of the house. Deanna very sweetly gave us a stroller for Judith, so I went with Carl for a stroll through the neighborhood. There was a small playground being built towards the back of the subdivision, which made me happy. And I suppose it makes sense if they're trying to sustain a real community here. People would have babies, and those kids would need a place to play.

On my way back, I stopped at the laundromat to get a sense of the facilities. How many washers and driers were available. How many people were using it on a Saturday afternoon. A couple of older women were there, including Mrs. Neidermeyer, who quickly pulled me into a conversation about needing a pasta maker. She was a sweet little lady, but I was ready to go about three minutes into that discussion. I quickly understood why Daryl was so annoyed with me earlier.

I continued on back to the house, figuring I'd seen enough for the afternoon. Rick said he was going to check out the infrastructure – the gate, the walls, the guard tower – so I wanted to wait for him and get his take on the place.

I'm puttering around, organizing clothes to take up to what will eventually be Carl and Noah's room, when there's a knock at the door. I figure it's not one of us, since they all know the door is unlocked, but I pray to the high heavens that it's not Mrs. Neidermeyer again. I can't do it.

I'm almost thankful to open the door and see Rachael Menken, our faithful tour guide and all around go-to person here at Alexandria. "Hey," I greet her with a friendly smile.

"Hey," she grins back, looking me in the eye. "How's everything going?"

"I would say… so far, so good." I look past her, out to the street, where Tara and Glenn are running by, for some reason. "Everyone is out sightseeing, as you've probably noticed."

"I have," she chuckled. "It's so nice to see some new faces here."

"Nice for us as well," I offer, although I'm not sure that's entirely true. I feel much safer with just my people around, but… we'll adapt. "We can't thank you all enough."

"Please don't mention it. We need you guys just as much as you need us, if not more."

"Oh, well that's not terrifying or anything," I say jokingly.

"I know, right?"

"But in all seriousness, we really appreciate all of this. Having a home again, with bed, and lights, and hot water is just…" I shake my head, unable to find words. "Thank you."

"Okay, you have to stop," she says, her olive skin turning a shade of pink. "I honestly didn't mean to pull you into this. I'm sure you're busy. I just wanted to see if Carl could come over today, if it's okay with you? My daughter really wanted to meet him."

"Oh." I find myself looking back into the house, even though I know he hasn't returned yet. Neither has Rick. "I, ummm… I'm sure that would be okay. But I'd have to check with his dad first."

"Oh, yes, of course." She shakes her head in realization. "I'm sorry. I thought you two were together, and like, his parents. I don't know. I made a lot of assumptions here," she chuckles nervously. "I'm sorry."

"No, no need to apologize," I assure her quickly. "I'm just… I'm not his mom, obviously."

"I mean, families form in all kinds of ways now. Just… I mean, from watching the interview videos, the way Rick and everyone spoke of you, I just assumed you were like… the First Lady of the group. I don't know." She's laughing nervously, causing me to do the same. "We've never had a group like yours before. Forgive me."

I look at her for much longer than I mean to, trying to decipher what she means by all of this. "It's fine," I say again, though still quite baffled. "I'm sure it'll be fine if Carl comes over, but Rick can be a bit…"

"Protective," she finishes for me, nodding. "I've noticed."

"Yes."

"That's totally cool." She lets out a big sigh and smiles at me again. "Well, I think this was sufficiently embarrassing."

"Please, think nothing of it," I say sincerely. I already told Rick that I liked her, but I can even see us being friends. I can't remember the last time I thought that about someone. "What's your daughter's name?"

"Olivia," she says, before immediately correcting herself. "Liv."

I nod. "You can tell Liv that I will make sure Carl gets over there sooner than later."

"Thanks, Michonne."

As she steps off of the porch, I close the door with a giant exhale, as I'm not sure what to make of that. What the hell did everyone say about me in those tapes? And more importantly, what did Rick say?


	8. rachael

Two days at Alexandria, and already, the place had begun to feel like home. I slept in on the third day, Sunday, reveling in the fact that Judith and I had a bed to ourselves. Carl moved into the bedroom he would share with Noah, so it was just me and my baby for the night. She made for a good roommate. Didn't take up a lot of space or make a big mess. The two of us would get along just fine.

As I awakened and regained all my senses, I realized the smell of food was wafting through the air. Something akin to bacon, but not quite as good. I had to go downstairs and find out what it was. With Judith in tow, we entered our kitchen to find Daryl at the stove, Maggie sitting at the kitchen counter with Sasha, and Carl in the living room with the young lady I'd met the evening before, Olivia. I went on in there to greet the kids.

"Good morning."

Carl barely looked up from his video game as he replied, "Hey, Dad."

His guest smiled in my direction, but couldn't quite tear her eyes from the television either. "Hi, Mr. Grimes."

I suppose I should've been happy he was back to killing things on a screen instead of in real life, but I had to shake my head at how positively enthralled they were by this game. "How long have you been playing?"

"Since Daryl started making breakfast," he shrugged. "I dunno."

I figured it couldn't have been that long then, if he wasn't finished. Which reminded me, I forgot to check and see what the hell he was making.

"He's frying Spam," Carl added, seeming to know what I must have been thinking. "And eggs."

I could feel my face contorting in disgust already. "Together?"

"Probably."

I would have to find some fruit for Judy and I once the kitchen was clear. "I don't want you on that thing all day," I said, referring to the Xbox. "After this weekend, you get an hour a day. I suggest you divide it up wisely."

"What am I supposed to do with the other twenty-three hours?"

"Your life's a video game. How about you live it," I suggested, heading for the door. It looked like a beautiful day, and wanted to experience some of it myself. I walked onto the porch to see Michonne sitting on the steps, nursing a mug of coffee. "Good morning."

Her head turned to the sound of my voice with a grin. "You sure it's not afternoon yet?"

I glanced at my watch as Judith and I took a seat beside her. "I still have seventeen minutes, thank you."

"Well then, good morning," she conceded. Her eyes fell to Judith, sparkling as they took her in. "And good morning to you, jelly bean."

"Whatcha doin' out here?"

"Just enjoying the warm breeze," she shrugged nonchalantly. "Before it gets too hot."

I nodded, taking in the atmosphere myself. "Everyone'll be moving into houses today. Gettin' job assignments tomorrow."

"Roommates and schedules. Feels like we're starting college," she chuckled, staring out at the house across the street from us.

"Except we're gonna be the ones teaching the courses," I joked.

"How To Survive the Apocalypse 101."

We both laughed, causing Judith to giggle as well. "She has no idea what she's laughin' at," I commented in amusement.

Michonne smiled at both of us comfortingly, but it was clear that she had something else on her mind. "Hey, speaking of roommates," she confirmed as she avoided my gaze, "I… was thinking about it, and I think I should move in with Daryl and Carol."

I had to admit, I didn't see that coming. I thought for sure, or perhaps just made a silly assumption, that she would take the room down the hall. But ever since leaving the prison, we'd been our own little family inside the bigger family, so I can't imagine it was crazy to think she would stay here. Maybe it was. "Hmm," was all I could say in response. I had nothing.

"Is that… okay with you?"

"Of course it's okay with me," I frowned. "What am I gonna do? Say no?"

"No, I suppose not," she smirked, still not looking at me. "I just want you to tell me if this bothers you. If you'd rather me stay here for the kids, or… whatever reason."

Yeah, asking her to stay here when she clearly wanted to live elsewhere sounded like a great idea. No, no thanks. "It doesn't bother me," I lied, "just surprised me. But no, please. …Go."

Her eyes narrowed on me, as if she were trying to gauge whether I was telling the truth. But we both spotted Rachael walking down the street, along with an older African-American woman by her side, and the conversation ceased as we both greeted the approaching duo.

"Hi, neighbors," Rachael smiled, stepping into our walkway. "I take it my kid's in there, eating up your floor space."

"She's fine," I waved dismissively with a grin. "She's welcome any time."

"I appreciate that," she nodded. "I umm, wanted to introduce you guys to my mom," she gestured toward her walking companion. "Mom, this is Michonne, Rick, and Judith. You guys, this is my mom, Sheila Landers."

"It's so nice to meet you," Michonne smiled, hopping up to shake the woman's hand.

I followed suit to greet her, but my eyes drifted to Rachael. I knew very little about her so far, but I found myself surprised every time she added another piece to the puzzle. "You guys wanna come in?"

"Oh no, we don't mean to interrupt," Rachael declined. "We were doing our usual Sunday morning stroll and Mom wanted to see where Liv was. I assured her she's in good hands."

"You sure? We got fried spam and eggs goin', so… basically a party."

Her green eyes twinkled as she laughed. "Thank you, but no, we're fine."

"Suit yourself…"

"But hey, it's moving day, right?"

"Indeed," Michonne inserted from beside me.

"Splitting the family up," I added, doing my best not to glare in her direction.

"So I'll be back in a couple of hours to help get you guys where you're going," Rachael promised. "I've got checklists and supply lists and request lists, and… lists of lists, apparently."

"Well, we'll be here," I chuckled back. "Or at least,  _I_  will." I won't lie – that was an intentional dig at Michonne. But she was the one leaving me. She could take it.

* * *

"Well that was harder than I thought it would be," Rachael sighed, falling into a seat at my dining room table. "You guys seemed so low maintenance when you got here. What the hell happened."

"Give 'em an inch…" I chuckled, setting a wine glass in front of her. "Red or white?"

"Oh, I'll have whatever you have."

"Well in that case…" I removed the glass and headed for the refrigerator to grab a couple of beers, setting one down for her. "Thank you," I told her for what felt like the millionth time as I took a seat across from her. As odd as it felt to have a house again, it felt even weirder to have it empty. The kids were back at Rachael's house with her mom, so it was especially empty that night.

"You guys are all so sweet. You really don't have to keep thanking me."

"We do," I countered. "This is the first time in a long time we've met a new group of people that haven't tried to kill us."

She stared at me thoughtfully as she took a sip of her beer. I noticed her wedding ring earlier in the day, but it wasn't until then that I realized a chunk of her left pinky was missing, like it had been bitten off. Just a nub remained. "It happened about a year ago," she revealed, probably noticing that I was staring.

"I'm sorry," I returned immediately, feeling like shit. "I'm so sorry."

"No worries. Everyone here knows what happened and they still stare sometimes."

"Did you get bit?"

"Almost," she nodded. "There was a buildup at the gates and four of our people were trying to get back in from a run. We tried to tell them to just hang back in the guard tower until we could clear it, but... the whole thing was a mess. To make a long story short, my hand got caught in the actual gate. It's a miracle only the pinky got mangled."

"Wow."

"This is what I mean when I say we need you guys' help. None of you are missing limbs."

My mind immediately flashed to Tyreese. Then Hershel. And suddenly a flood of lost ones went crashing through my brain. "We've lost a lot more than limbs," I assured her quietly. "I'd give my right hand to bring back some of the things we've lost."

"Your wife?" she guessed, her eyes leaving my face to glance at my hands rested on the table.

"Yeah," I nodded, innately beginning to twist my ring around my finger. "She died having Judith."

"Oh, God." Her eyes immediately began to water and she shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

"We're all right," I promised her and myself. "We've all lost somethin'."

"That is the truth."

"What about you?" I decided to ask since we were bearing our souls and all.

"What about me?"

"You've introduced me to your mom, your daughter. Is your husband still around?"

"Oh." She chucked sadly and glanced at her own wedding band. "He died right at the beginning."

"I see."

"He was in LA on business when it all started. Couldn't get a flight back to Boston - that's where we're from - to save his life. It literally took days and days for him to get on by standby, and… the flight ended up crashing about midway through."

"Are you kidding?"

She shook her head. "They said there had to have been an infected person on the plane. It erupted into chaos fairly quickly, from what they could tell."

"Jesus..."

"Yeah, so... we've been on our own since then. The three of us girls."

"And how did you end up here?"

"Honestly," she sighed, "a stroke of luck. My mom thought we should try DC. Said it would be the most protected place in the country. We got down here just in time to be too late for all the evacuations, but that ended up being our saving grace. We were sent here by the army, and it's pretty much been this ever since."

"I would've said you're luckiest person I've ever met, but... you had to lose your husband to get here, so that's probably not the most accurate statement."

"No," she chuckled, thankfully understanding my joke. "Not quite."

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Rachael."

She looked at me and shrugged. "Like you said, we've all lost something."

Our conversation continued for another hour, as we regaled each other with tales of our pre and post apocalyptic lives. I found it endlessly amusing that my travels had brought me to this beautiful home, listening to this intriguing Black-Jewish financial analyst from Boston, who'd been living in this sheltered, utopian community since nearly the beginning. And yet, she didn't seem naïve like the others. It felt like she understood what was going on outside.

"So listen," she started, as we both popped the tops on our fourth beers for the night, "I know you're gonna hate this, but… I have a proposition for you."

I looked at her suspiciously, but I found myself smiling anyway. I was curious. "Okay…"

"I see you shutting this down before you even hear me out. You have to be open to it."

"I'm open," I promised, chuckling. "Go ahead."

"So… there's this-."

"Nope," I cut her off teasingly.

"Rick!"

"Okay, okay, I'm fuckin' with you. Go ahead."

"So next weekend, Deanna's gonna host this… party, I guess you'd call it. To welcome your group to the community. So you guys can mix and mingle with everyone."

I could feel myself frowning already. I didn't even like parties back when we didn't have any problems. Socializing now just sounded ridiculous. "Is this mandatory?"

"For everyone else? No."

"It is for me?"

"I think you, and probably Michonne should show up."

"Why us?"

"I'll just say that, based on the jobs you're being given, it's best if people meet you guys."

I wasn't sure why she was being so cryptic, but this was quickly starting to sound like something I would definitely hate. "I don't know, Rachael…"

"Please?" She offered up a pair of puppy dog eyes and a smile. "Everyone's been asking about the cute guy in the cowboy boots. Don't disappoint them."

"No one's been askin' that," I laughed again. "Stop lyin'."

"The only reason women haven't been beating down your door is because we all thought you were with Michonne."

"Oh, now it's 'we?'" I noticed. "So you're included in that?"

"Well, I do have eyes, so…"

I felt my cheeks flush, and I knew we had gotten too far off topic. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. "Well. For the record, Michonne and I are not together in that way. And… I'll come to your stupid party."

She gasped happily, throwing down another empty can. "Really?"

"If you really think I should, then I will."

"I really do." She sat back in her seat, seemingly satisfied with her mission being accomplished. "If you want Carl to come, I'll make sure Liv does, too. We can all go together."

"I was just gonna suggest that," I replied with a smirk. And it was then that I realized maybe it was best that Michonne decided not to live here. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have taken the time to get to know anyone else outside the group, and Rachael was quickly proving why that would've been a mistake on my part. She wasn't quite my type, but there was something about her that stuck to my ribs. She was smart, with a sunny disposition, and she had freckles on her nose that made me smile. I think I might like this one. "It's a date."


	9. the space between

" _Aaron tells me that you and Michonne make the decisions for the group. Tell me about that."_

I watch Rick chuckle at that assessment, and then he smiles, and it's a beautiful sight. " _It's more like Michonne makes the decisions and I agree with them."_

" _So then it's like any other marriage,_ " Deanna jokes.

Rick looks at the camera for a beat and then back at the woman he's speaking with. " _We're not married_ ," he says, " _but yes. Whatever she says pretty much goes."_

" _So you trust her implicitly."_

" _I do,"_  he nods.  _"With my life, with my kids, with my judgment. When I need honesty, when I need a dose of common sense, when I need reassurance, she's right there. She's fearless, and she's taught me to be, too."_

" _Wow."_

"' _Wow' what?"_

" _I hope this is how Reg talks about me when I'm not around,"_ she chuckles.  _"That's my husband."_

Rick only nods, but those blue eyes are in rare form, twinkling like they're hiding secrets. It's odd, I feel like I'm spying on him, or intruding on his private thoughts. Even though these thoughts aren't private, and he probably hasn't said anything he wouldn't tell me himself. But that doesn't make it any less astounding to hear. In fact, I feel downright giddy all of a sudden.

" _And you didn't know one another before?_ " Deanna guesses.  _"Did I hear that correctly?"_

" _Everyone we knew before is dead_ ," he confirms. " _Carl and I are the only ones left related by blood_."

" _But you're still family_." I can hear the smile in her voice, even though she's not on screen. " _What did it take for you to get there? How do you decide to trust a stranger with your life?_ "

" _There's no handbook for it_ ," he shakes his head. " _Sometimes they save your life, and that's all you need to know. That's how it happened for me and Glenn. And sometimes, like with Michonne, you meet someone and you see yourself staring back at you. The same mindset, the same heart. And sometimes that makes them hard to trust at first, but once you do…_ "

There's a clicking sound in the background before she eventually replies, " _Intimacy._ "

" _What?_ " Rick asks, his eyes darting up from the floor.

" _That's where true intimacy begins_."

He nods slowly as he turns his head back toward the window. I imagine he can see all of us, since that's where we waited for him to complete his interview. I can't help but wonder if he's looking at me in this moment. " _Yeah_ ," he finishes, looking back at her, then apprehensively at the camera.

I pull off the headphones and turn to Deanna, who's busy in her kitchen, probably preparing breakfast for her house full of kids. "Have you gone back and watched these?" I wonder out loud.

She comes over to me with a dishrag in her hand and a smile on her face. "I've watched them twice, in fact. You're all very fascinating people."

"We've been through a lot," I nod. "Adds character."

"You all have skills I never would've even thought of," she says, giving me a friendly tap on the shoulder. "You, especially, Michonne."

I'm not sure what she means by that, but I thank her all the same. "I appreciate that."

"Do me a favor and promise me you'll get your group to come to my party on Friday."

There's a party? "You're having a party?"

"Yes. It's for you guys," she says softly, as if someone is listening in on us. She does that often. "I want you all to feel like you live here. Like you know everyone."

"Okay," I chuckle a bit tensely. "Is this a fancy affair, or…?"

"A little fancy is good, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

"But I'm not picky, so long as I get to see all your beautiful faces." She sits down across from me and looks me in the eye. "And I know you're the one that'll get them here. Especially Rick."

"I'm not sure I have that much influence," I quietly laugh, "but I'll try."

"You heard what he said," she simpers. "You make the decisions. Tell him it's our Fourth of July party. Make it a date night."

I laugh again, and I want to tell her that we're not even dating, but hell, maybe she's onto something. Maybe this is an opportunity for us to slowly get something off the ground.  _Slowly_ , being the operative word, so maybe I could stop worrying about us spontaneously combusting. I think I could handle that.

"Maybe," I tell Deanna sincerely. "I'm headed over there now. I'll see what he says."

* * *

As I make it down the block to Rick's house, I catch him coming out of the door with our neighbor Rachael in tow, followed by Carl. It's an odd sight, and I have to stop myself from frowning as they notice me. But I can't help but recall the fact that when I left him yesterday, he was with her, too.

"Hey, you." Rick is the first to greet me with a smile.

"Morning," I grin back at the three.

"Hey, Michonne." Carl does the same as he sets his hat on top of his head. "You're just in time to see me off to school."

"First day of school already? I like it."

"Well he doesn't," Rick says, coming down the steps to join me on the sidewalk. "But it'll be good for him to learn somethin' again."

"I'm sure he'll be the one teaching them by the end of all this," Rachael chimes in, sending a friendly wave my way. "I'm gonna take him over and get him settled, but I'll meet you at the front," she tells Rick.

"Got it," he nods, then looks at Carl. "Be good?"

"I always am," he returns with a smirk on his adorable face. "Be careful."

He gives his son a pat on the back. "I always am."

"Michonne, I'll see you later?"

"I want all the gossip, the minute you get home," I wink at him. As the two of them head off towards higher learning, I turn back to Rick, realizing someone's missing from the equation. "Where's my jelly bean?" I ask, referring to Judith.

"She's inside," he chuckles, turning in the opposite direction of Carl and Rachael. "Walk with me?"

I silently accept the invitation, the two of us strolling slowly, side by side. "Who's watching her?"

"Noah, for now. But he'll be dropping her off with Mrs. Landers later this morning."

Who the fuck is that? I move out yesterday, and suddenly he's just letting his kids hang out with randoms? "You don't have to leave her with strangers, you know. I'm right across the street."

"I'm aware of that," he answers in amusement. "But I'm pretty sure you're gonna be working."

Oh, yeah… that. "Right…"

"Besides, she's not a  _stranger_  stranger. She's Rachael's mom."

"Oh, the woman we met yesterday."

"Yeah."

"Still a stranger," I shrug. "But sure."

"Well, unless they put Carol on daycare duty, I don't have much choice. And I trust Rachael, so… I guess I trust her mother?"

I can't help but find that strange for him, given we've only been here four days. But I'll let him have that. "So I take it that means we're getting our job assignments today."

"We are," he nods, staring up at the rising sun. "Between you and me, I think we'll be working together."

"'We' as in you and I?"

He looks over at me nervously, as if he's not sure how I'll feel about it. "Yeah."

"That's good, right?" I ask.

"Is it?"

"I mean, we get along well," I rationalize. "We know how to communicate. We've been working together since we met."

"Yeah," he sighs.

"Rick, what the hell," I chuckle uneasily. "Why are you so hesitant about it?"

"I mean, you were the one tryin' to get away from me." He stops in his tracks and stands with one hand rested on his gun as he gazes back at me. "Putting us back together in the same office day in, day out… I thought you would be the one worried."

"I  _want_  to see you every day, Rick. That's not what this is."

He tilts his head in that confrontational way that I used to hate. I haven't seen it directed towards me in a while. "Then what is it?"

I let out a sigh and pause our conversation as a couple of kids are headed down the street, presumably to class. "I just don't want us to make any mistakes," I say once they've passed by. "We can't afford them."

"I don't know what that means," he answers, squinting. "But it's fine, Michonne. I'm following your lead here."

"Well my 'lead' is not to pull us apart," I assure him. "In fact, I woke up this morning realizing how weird it was that I didn't even see you last night. Like, we haven't been away from one another for more than a few hours since the prison."

He smirks back at me as we resume our walk. "Maybe now you know how I felt when you were going off on all your excursions with Daryl."

"Oh, please," I smile back. "I asked you to come, but you were busy worrying about tomatoes."

"You asked me to come once."

"I asked you twice!"

"Either way..." He has a small grin on his face as he nods towards Deanna's house, just up ahead. "I guess this is where I leave you."

"You're killing me," I joke, clutching my chest. "We barely even got to talk."

"I know. But… duty calls."

"Where are you even going?"

"I've got a meeting with Deanna about the jobs. And then Rachael and I will be coming around to get everyone to their posts."

"So I'll see you soon then."

"Probably," he nods absently. "I've got shooting training a bit later, but sure."

I sigh, realizing that he's busier than I thought. It's a very weird, unexpected consequence of this new world. "Well let's hang out tonight," I suggest. "I'll make dinner for you and Carl."

"'Hang out,'" he says, chuckling at me. "Who are you and what have you done with Michonne?"

"I know," I agree with a weird giggle. "I don't even know what 'hanging out' means, but I feel like it's something they do in this world."

"I think I did that last night," he admits, pretending to feel shame about it. "But… I can't tonight. I'm on duty outside." He points towards the gates and then runs his hand over his head. "How 'bout tomorrow night?"

"Aaron and Eric already invited us over for dinner tomorrow," I shake my head, knowing it would be rude to cancel.

"'Us' as in you and I?" Rick wonders, and I think he sounds more hopeful than confused about it. It's hard to get a read on him right now.

I wince at the awkward fact that the answer is no. "I believe it's me and Daryl, and possibly, Sasha and Abraham."

"That's an odd grouping…"

"We're roommates. They're roommates. Why not?"

"Why not Carol?" he presses with his eyes narrowed on me all of a sudden.

"She already had plans," I shrug. "Baking cookies with Olivia, I believe."

He nods again, still seeming to be in some sort of trance. "So how about Wednesday?"

"No bueno," I say, letting out a frustrated exhale. "Deanna wants all the ladies to convene at the church for some reason."

"And Thursday, I'm taking Rachael on a run, so…"

"So we'll play it by ear," I nod understandingly. "If we're working together, we'll see each other before then."

"Right."

"So… I'll see you later." I begin to turn and leave him to his meeting, but Deanna's door swings open, and she's standing before us with a big, goofy smile on her face.

"Is it all settled?" she asks me cheerfully, beginning to walk towards us.

The party. I totally forgot I was supposed to be telling Rick about that. "Not quite," I answer tentatively, hoping she doesn't sell me out. The last thing I want to do is suggest a date night at the moment. We can't even find a minute to be friends right now.

Rick is looking back and forth between us, obviously confused. "Is what all settled?"

"Well Michonne here was just-."

I cut her off before she could reveal all my dirty secrets. "I was gonna ask you to make sure everyone comes to Deanna's party on Friday."

"Oh, so you already know about it," he says in realization, looking back at me. "Good."

"And sounds like you do, too?" I answer, glancing back at Deanna, baffled. I thought she wanted me to tell him.

"Yeah, Rachael told me about it last night. I said I would tag along with her."

Of course. Fucking Rachael. "Oh."

"So yeah, I think we can get everyone there," he tells Deanna with a nod, then turns back to me. "Right?"

I suddenly find myself wondering if there's something I can use to get out of this little soirée. A toothache is a good excuse, right? But I smile and agree, because it would be rude to do anything else in the moment. "Right."

"All right, so you handle your side of the street and I'll get started on Glenn and Maggie when I go over there later today."

I can hear him saying words, but I'm already turning to head back home.  _Deflated_  is about the only word I can use to describe the course of this odd Monday morning.

"Hey, Michonne?" he calls after me.

I stop and glance back at him. "Yeah?"

"I know we didn't really get to finish our talk. But did you come by the house for a reason?"

"Nope," I lie with a fake grin to match. No point in bringing it up now if he's going to the party with  _Rachael_. Besides, he's got stuff to do, and so do I. "Do your thing."


	10. fireworks

I glanced at my watch, noting that it was just about 8:30 as Carl, Judith, and I stood at Rachael's front door, patiently waiting for someone to answer. Carl looked on in a mixture of what seemed to be nervousness and annoyance, which made me chuckle. He was so clearly my kid, a walking contradiction.

"You all right?" I asked him quietly.

"Is this a date?" he frowned back at me. "I didn't think it was, but it feels like one all of a sudden."

"No," I laughed as I straightened Judith's dress over her legs. "Did you even ask Olivia to come?"

"You know I didn't. You're the one that told me this was happening."

"So then why would you think it's a date?"

"I dunno," she shrugged, looking down at his button-down. "You made me tuck in my shirt. And we're picking them up like it's a date…"

"Don't confuse being a gentleman with romance," I advised, seeing shadows of figures moving past the windows. "Unless you want it to be a date."

"Dad."

The door opened slowly and Rachael's daughter, Olivia, came into view, wearing a light blue sundress, the color of Carl's eyes and both our shirts. The way he looked back at her, it was obvious he wanted it to be a date. I've been there before, buddy.

"Mom! Grandma!" she called back into the house. "Carl and Mr. Grimes are here!"

"Hey," I greeted her once I realized my son would continue to stand there speechless. "Are they ready?"

"Yeah, I think so," she shrugged stepping onto her porch. "Hey," she grinned at Carl.

"You look nice," he replied awkwardly.

"I haven't worn a dress in like a year," she rolled her eyes. "My mom made me put this on."

"I like it."

"You're just being nice."

"I swear I'm not." He bit at his bottom lip as he looked down, staring at her sandaled feet. "You wanna go on ahead?"

"Sure," she shrugged again. "I haven't eaten all day, so I'm kind of starving."

He offered her his arm and she instantly took hold as they headed down the steps towards the party. It amused me that he completely forgot I was standing there, but I wasn't about to let him just leave without saying anything. "So y'all are just gonna leave, I guess."

Carl glanced back at me like an afterthought. "Sorry, Dad. Is it okay if we go?"

"Straight there," I agreed. "Go on."

"Thank you, Mr. Grimes," Olivia called back.

I could hear the two of them giggling before they even got to the end of the block, and I leaned against the frame of their door, watching with Judy as the other Alexandrians headed towards the front of the subdivision. It was weird to hear the click-clack of high heels against the pavement. Music filling the summer night. Laughter. If I hadn't been on the outside a number of times since arriving, I would've forgotten walkers were on the other side of those walls. I could see how these people had become so sheltered.

Finally, Rachael came down the steps in her own heels and a fancy yellow dress with a smile to match. Her hair was pulled into a bun on one side, and her bangs were swept the same way. She was very pretty in a fun sort of way. She reminded me of a summer day.

"Hey," she grinned, meeting me at the door. "I'm sorry, I lost the back to my earring and I finally just said, Fuck it."

"No problem," I waved dismissively. "I let the kids go on to the party."

She nodded, before yelling to her mom, "Are you ready, ma?"

"Go on ahead," Mrs. Landers called back.

"What are you doing!"

"Minding my damn business!" she shouted. "I'll be there soon!"

"She's so weird," she commented, joining me outside. She took a look at Judith in her beige dress and sweater combination and smiled brightly. "Well don't you look fantastic, little lady?"

"She picked it out herself," I joked, the two of us making our way down the steps. "I think I might have a diva on my hands."

"Which means she'll probably be a tomboy by the time she's ten," she prophesized. "Don't put too much stock in any of it."

"Your daughter was just sayin' you made her put on a dress tonight."

"It was a literal fight," she laughed. "Like, I was practically holding her down. She's ridiculous."

"Oh, is that what I have to look forward to?"

"I think it's more of a mother-daughter thing," she shook her head. "Not that teenaged girls are fun to raise either way, but… girls love their fathers in a very different way."

I hated imagining Judith as a teenager. It was hard enough accepting that Carl was one. "I vote for a change of subject," I said as we moved closer to Deanna's house.

"Well, we're going to a party," she offered, waving to a couple passing by on the opposite side of the street. "Here's to drinking so much, we forget we have kids tonight."

"Ha," I laugh, looking down at Judy, who probably wouldn't appreciate such a thing. But there's no reason not to have a little fun tonight. "I'll drink to that."

* * *

It was an absolutely gorgeous evening at Alexandria. The weather was the perfect mixture of warm and arid. The moon was nearly full and the stars were bright. And Deanna's backyard had been decorated in its own sparkling lights – typically ones you'd use for Christmas decorations – giving a romantic feel to the entire night.

Carl and I were enjoying grape juice and whiskey, respectively, as we chatted with Reg and one of his sons, Aiden, about the walls outside. We weren't exactly supposed be talking about work, but I didn't know what else to discuss with these people. I already knew most of their mundane stories.

I was thankful when the door opened and Michonne walked in. We hadn't seen much of each other all week, and I found myself actively looking forward to this party, just to see her in a casual setting again. But the way she was looking in her dress had me feeling anything but relaxed. She looked fucking flawless. Granted, I always thought she was gorgeous, but something about seeing her dressed up was very surreal.

She wore a form-fitting red dress about as bright as her smile. It was a simple dress, strapless and knee length, but her body brought it to life. All I could see were her elegant muscular arms as she accepted a drink from Deanna. And as she turned to give one of our neighbors a hug… that ass. I could not tear my eyes away. I quickly downed what was left of my drink and went in for another one.

"It's damn near hypnotic, ain't it?" Abraham stood beside me, taking in the same view I'd been shamelessly enjoying. "Shouldn't even be legal."

I could feel my grip tighten on my glass, so I knew it best not to say anything in response. I didn't want to interrupt her while she was doing her social butterfly thing, but I also didn't want to stand there ogling her with Abraham, so I headed towards the patio. Outside, I could see Carol with Rachael and Maggie, laughing over drinks. On the other side of the yard, Noah and Judith were hanging out in the grass with some of the other neighborhood kids. I imagined Carl would be joining them before long.

I decided to stay put, right near the door for a view of both worlds. I could see everything outside and hear everything inside. Chatter about needing a pasta maker, and reruns of Days of Our Lives. Someone mentioned putting together a sports team at Alexandria, which I couldn't help but roll my eyes at, even if I was eavesdropping. There were some people discussing my group and how much they couldn't stand us, which I found amusing. We hadn't done anything since being there, aside from bring back a bunch of food from one of our runs. But it was when I heard Michonne's name mentioned that my ears perked up to really listen. I couldn't see the two, but it sounded like Deanna's older son, Spencer, was talking to Nick.

" _She is so fucking hot."_

" _There's no fuckin' way you can pull that, dude."_

" _I bet I could."_

" _I bet she'd cut your dick off with that sword before you got near her."_

" _Gimme one good reason why you think she wouldn't go for me."_

" _Just one? But there are so many."_

" _Like…"_

" _Like, she's the leader of a group of badasses, so what could she possibly need or want from you?"_

" _She's not the leader; Rick's the leader."_

" _All right, well let's say that's true. If she doesn't go for him, what the hell makes you think you have a chance?"_

Utterly amused by their conversation, I poured myself another glass of Jack, and then purposely rounded the corner to pass the two on my way back to where the main party was happening. She and Rosita were surrounded by a group of guys that I didn't quite recognize. I walked over to her side of the semi-circle and indiscreetly took a place beside her. "Hey," I greeted the group.

Michonne sent a smile my way as she replied, "Hey. We were just talking about you."

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," I joked. As the rest of the group laughed, I carefully placed my hand at the small of her back and leaned in to whisper, "You look fantastic."

It was obvious she was holding back another smile, but her eyes flirtatiously took me in. "So do you."

"You wanna go outside?"

She looked me up and down again, and I wondered if she'd had nearly as much to drink as I had. She was clutching an empty wine glass, so she was probably on her way. She nodded slightly in response and then we separated. "Excuse us," she told the small group.

Since I knew the backyard was full, the two of us opted for the front of the house, where the porch was clear of other guests. It was then that I realized I couldn't remember the last time Michonne and I were alone. "Just the two of us," I commented with a sigh, leaning over the deck railing with my drink in hand.

She chuckled as she leaned against it the opposite way, facing back towards the house. "That never happens, huh."

"Somehow, it happened more back when we were always running for our lives."

"Maybe because we didn't have to make an effort. We were always just… right there."

I nodded, recognizing that that was exactly why. We had become close, mostly out of necessity. "Well then." I stood up straight and raised my glass to her. "Let's make an effort."

"I'd drink to that," she grinned, "but I have no wine left."

I held my tumbler in the palm of my hand, offering it to her as if on a platter. "Drink up."

With a flirtatious smile, she accepted my contribution to her inebriation. "Rick Grimes, are you trying to get me drunk?"

It was my turn to look her up and down again. "You got a problem with that?"

"Nope." She quickly consumed what was left of my whiskey and then handed the glass back to me. "We're all out."

"You took that like a champ," I marveled.

"Don't look so surprised. I can drink with the best of 'em."

That was actually quite surprising. She seemed so sophisticated, even when she was fighting for her life. "Is that right?"

"That is right." With an exhale, she ungracefully hopped up on the railing, using it as a seat, and kicked her heels off. They each made loud thuds as they hit the wooden paneling.

"Please don't fall," I begged, moving in closer to her. "I'm too drunk to catch you."

"Nobody's gonna fall, Constable."

She reached out to hold my shoulder, so I moved again, standing directly in front of her. "Very funny."

"It actually is funny," she laughed. "Someone asked you to restore order and balance to this place. They have no idea how reckless you are."

"I'm not reckless."

"Oh, so you didn't punch Aaron in the face within three minutes of meeting him. Okay."

I chuckled back, defeated. I could be reckless when I wanted to be, I guess. "Well hey. You keep me safe, I'll keep you wild."

"Is that the point of me?" Her eyes closed for a moment, as she released her grip on my shoulders. Instead, her fingers tugged at my collar and then moved down my chest as she sighed again. "Where did you find this shirt?"

"Same place you found that dress," I retorted, eyeing her. I held my hands at either side of her, just in case she did start to fall, while her knees dug into my ribcage. We were about as close as two people could get to one another. "Where  _did_ you find this dress anyway?"

"That event at the church the other night? We did a clothing swap," she chuckled. "It was silly, but… I made out like a bandit."

"So there's more of where this came from?"

"So you're saying you don't like my constable uniform that I have to wear every single day?"

"Well," I started, looking to my left to avoid her gaze. What I was about to say was probably inappropriate, but I was too gone to care. "I've never necessarily wanted to peel that uniform off of you…" I looked back at her once the words came out of my mouth, finding her smirking back at me.

"Who knew all it would take is a little red dress to get you to notice me."

"Oh, don't tell that lie. I've been 'noticing' you since the day you arrived at the prison."

"That's true," she admitted. I could feel her foot running along my leg. "Not even subtly."

"Not even a little bit," I agreed, licking my lips.

"But you did start ignoring me once we got here," she went on. "And suddenly, you've got time in your schedule for me. Maybe I should've worn this dress a week ago."

I couldn't help but frown at her in the moment. Maybe my drunkenness was skewing her words, but it felt like things were going sideways all of a sudden. "I haven't been ignoring you, Michonne. You've been just as unavailable as I have."

"And yet, I always manage to see you hanging out with your buddy, Rachael."

I pulled back so that we weren't so close anymore, but continued to stare up at her, dumfounded. "What's happening right now?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, as if she wasn't in the middle of instigating a fight. "I'm just stating the obvious."

"Well while we're doing that, can I just ask you… what did you think was gonna happen when you said you wanted to live with Daryl? How was that supposed to make me feel? Good?"

"I told you to tell me if you had a problem with it."

"So I was supposed to beg you to stay?"

"You were supposed to be honest with me," she shot back. "You and I are nothing if we're not honest with each other."

"You want honesty?" I shook my head as I wiped my face with the back of my arm. It had gotten hot out there all of a sudden. "I thought we were starting something here, Michonne. I thought… I don't know what I thought," I admitted. "But you completely shut it down when you randomly decided to leave, for reasons you didn't care to express to me, so… yeah, I didn't feel like telling you my feelings were hurt. Sue me."

She nodded slowly, as if she wanted to say something, but didn't want to be argumentative. But it was too late for that, and she knew it too. "So… your feelings were hurt, and your solution is to go and date the first new chick you can find? Sounds like you were really broken up about it."

"You passed on me, Michonne." I looked back into the party, where I desperately wished I had stayed at that point. "What did you want me to do?"

"I don't know," she replied, hopping down from the railing. "But I'll be honest with you. I guess I just thought it would take you more than a week to start fucking someone you just met."

"Who…" I shook my head in confusion, completely taken aback by her assertion, but I really wasn't equipped to deal with it in that moment. I could easily see us starting to yell at each other if we kept at the rate we were going. "Let's not do this," I said softly.

"Yeah, let's ignore the problem some more," she nodded sarcastically.

"I'm gonna go," I insisted with a nod. I walked towards her slowly, and held her elbow gently as I placed a kiss on her left cheek. "Good night, Michonne."


	11. drunk, in love

As I watch Rick disappear back into this stupid party, I pick up my shoes and make my way home. I have absolutely no desire to spend any more of my time here. I'm drunk, I'm horny, I'm pissed off, I'm tired. And most of these problems are thanks to Rick. I'm so sick of his back and forth nonsense. And that condescending  _Let's not do this_  bullshit. What the hell was that? Pretending to be the bigger person? You spend every free minute with Rachael, and I'm supposed to be the one that hurt you? Okay.

When I get back to my house, I immediately go to the kitchen and grab the first bottles of liquor I can find. I swear, that's the best thing about this place. Alcohol everywhere. Whoever lived here before must've been hoarding the stuff, just in case of this very situation. And I thank them for it.

With a giant sigh, I head into the living room to wallow in my feelings, and maybe watch some I Love Lucy DVDs. But when I flip on the lights, I realize that I'm not alone. Daryl is sitting on the couch, staring into oblivion. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask, startled to see him.

"Nothin'," he shakes his head.

"Well that much is obvious," I say, walking towards him. He looks nice, I notice once my nerves return to normal. He's got on a black button-down and a new-ish pair of jeans. I think he might have even combed his hair. "But why are you sitting here all dressed up?"

"No place to go," he shrugs, making what I think is an attempt at a joke.

"There's a party down the block, you know."

"Maybe that's why I got dressed up."

Plopping my booze on the coffee table, I decide to take a seat next to him, curling up as comfortably as I can in this dress. "Couldn't make it out the door, huh?"

"Nah, I did," he says, looking at me, "but I didn't feel like goin' in."

"Because?"

"Nothin' to say."

"If you heard the things those people were talkin' about," I scoff. "I think I've had more interesting conversations with myself."

He cracks a smile and then looks over to me. "What you doin' back so early?"

I exhale loudly and rest my head against the back of the couch. "I guess I got tired of the bullshit myself. It was just… I dunno."

"There's nothin' to party about," he notes sadly. "Nothin' to be happy about."

I've noticed that the greatest and worst thing about Daryl Dixon is that he loves hard, which means he doesn't take loss easily. He's been mourning Beth since we left Atlanta, and I think it's really hindered him from enjoying what we have now. I brush his hair from his eyes as I look at him tenderly. "Isn't there?"

"Like what?"

"We made it to the other side," I say simply. Because it really is that simple. All these dead people wandering around, and we're still alive. That's something I will always find a way to be thankful for. "Plus," I add, leaning over to retrieve the bottles I'd grabbed, "we've got liquor." I hand him the rum and keep the vodka for myself.

With a smirk, he accepts the gift and sits back on the couch with me. As we unscrew the caps, we both glance over to our mantle, where my katana is mounted just above his crossbow. As much as they're a symbol of our journey, the fact that they're up on a shelf signifies our hope that we don't have to use them again. Even if we'd rather not get used to not using them again.

"We made it," Daryl agrees, looking back at me. "I'll take that."

"Good." We both drink from our respective bottles and I wince at the taste. I've had wine, whiskey, and vodka in a matter of hours. I'm pretty sure they'll be wreaking their havoc on me by morning.

"So since you got such an optimistic outlook and shit, what you drinkin' about?"

"Maybe I just wanted to get drunk tonight," I shrug, offering a silly smile. "Do I need a reason?"

"Don't need one. But most people double-fisting alcohol bottles usually got one."

"Well. If you must know, Rick and I got into a bit of an argument tonight."

His eyebrows knit into a frown as he takes another drink. "You two? About what?"

"We're both crazy," I say cryptically but truthfully. "I dunno."

"You do know."

"I made the conscious decision to live elsewhere, because I thought living together would ruin us. Instead, he started treating me like an outcast because his feelings were hurt. And somehow, I'm the bad guy. Like he has the moral high ground."

"Maybe he's just lashin' out 'cause he misses you."

"Really?" I ask, looking back at Daryl. "Seems like he loves it."

"You know that ain't true."

"I can understand why that might've put him off a little, but I've made every effort to show that our friendship is the most important thing to me. He's the most important thing to me. But he's basically like, 'Oh, so you don't wanna be attached to my hip? You want your own space? How dare you? Bye.'" I belligerently take another sip from my bottle. "Fuck him."

Daryl chuckles, seemingly amused by my turmoil. "Musta been some argument."

"It felt like when we didn't get along when I first arrived at the prison." I never once thought we'd get back there, and yet, here we are. "You remember how fucked up that was."

"When he said he was takin' you back to his hometown? I really wasn't sure both of y'all would make it back alive."

"He was an asshole, and I didn't like to talk," I nod in recollection. It was definitely a rough start for us. "I think that trip is the only reason we became friends." I could hear him knocking back another one as I stared up at our weapons again. "You warmed up to me pretty quickly, though."

"You scared the shit outta me," he smirks. "After I saw what you did to The Governor, there wasn't no way I was gonna cross you."

"Oh, so you were just gonna let Rick do it."

"I knew… Or I thought I knew he would come to his senses. He mighta lost his mind over Lori, but he was still a good person."

"Hmm."

"Don't gimme that bullshit 'Hmm,' like you don't know," he chuckles at me. "You wouldn't be this mad if you thought any different."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Don't get me wrong, he's still an asshole."

I find myself giggling as I put down my drink, then turn towards Daryl so that I can rest my face against the back of the couch. "So I asked you what you thought about our dinner at Aaron and Eric's, but you never answered me."

"Didn't I?"

"Nope," I shake my head drunkenly. "Francine came by to ask you for help, and then I didn't see you the rest of the day."

"Look at you learnin' people's names and shit," he comments as if it's some shocking revelation. He used to get on me for not really giving a damn about the new people that came to the prison.

"Why are you brining up old stuff?" I smile in amusement. "I told Rick I was done taking breaks and I'll say it to you, too. I'm here."

"Well all right."

"How about you?"

"I'm here," he nods, looking me straight in the eye. "I go wherever y'all go."

I eye him suspiciously, pretending I don't believe him, while trying to keep my grin from giving myself away. "I'll be watching you, Dixon."

"To answer your question," he goes on, obviously ignoring the idea of exploring that topic, "I like both those dudes."

"Yeah?"

"They're kinda funny."

"Aaron is funny," I realize in agreement. "And not even in an annoying way."

"That story he told about his mom and the applesauce…"

"That was golden." I smile as I recall that the entire dinner was quite fun, then look back at my friend. "I didn't see you laugh once, though."

"I was laughin' on the inside."

"You don't always have to be so brooding, you know. No one will judge you if you start smiling."

"They started judging you," he reminds me and I think he's joking, but he's right.

"They started speaking to me is what happened."

"I'll pass."

I hit his thigh playfully before picking up my bottle of Stoli. "So when do you and Aaron leave on your first recruitment?"

"Couple of weeks," he shrugs. "He said to just enjoy this time off, but I feel like someone's always callin' on us for some stupid reason or another."

"Well then be thankful you'll be able to leave here soon," I say. "Just this morning, Mr. and Mrs. Palmer had me over just to help look for their dog."

"I think you mighta picked the wrong time to stop takin' breaks."

An actual snort comes out of my nose in response and I close my eyes in embarrassment. "That didn't just happen."

"It did. But I won't tell anyone."

I stare at him for much longer than I intend to and then take a sip of my drink. "Pass me the remote," I tell him. "We need music."

* * *

_i feel it in the morning_  
_you're still here in the morning_  
_i see you but you're gone, telephone a doctor_  
_i'm not okay_  
_the bottom of the bottle to fill this empty heart up_  
_a thousand proof don't change the truth  
_ _i dive in but i can't_

Hours later and I'm still sitting there with Daryl and two empty bottles. We've shared a bunch of secrets and not-so-secrets, some much-needed laughs, and even a cigarette as we wait for Carol to come home. It feels good to feel this good, despite feeling so bad. I no longer have the desire to punch Rick in the face, so I'd say that the end of this evening has been a success.

"Thank you," I tell Daryl sincerely. I'm still kneeled on the couch just beside him, so I brush his hair out of his face, and pull a bobby pin from my own hair to keep it that way. "Also? You need a fucking haircut."

He rests his hand over his bare forehead and shakes his head, smiling. "You ain't gonna turn me into your new Rick."

I literally cackle in reply, my mouth hanging open and all. "I would never."

"Yeah, you would."

"How is it so hard to believe that I actually like you for you." I use my index finger under his chin to turn his head towards me. "I just wanna see your face."

"For someone who was a lawyer before, you oughta be better at lyin'."

"That's not a lie!" I defend loudly. "Your little self-deprecating act isn't gonna fool me. I know you know I dig you."

"Is that right?"

"It is."

"That why you barely even talk to me since we left the prison?"

"Listen," I say, playfully narrowing my eyes at him, "I went out to look for The Governor, and I come back, and you and Carol are besties. I had no desire to intrude on that."

"How's that any different from you and Rick?"

"I'm not saying it is. But… Unlike you, I don't get weird when you bring up Carol's name."

He instantly looks down with a frown, avoiding my stare. "I don't get weird if you bring up Rick."

"You literally just did it!"

He lets out an exhale and pulls the bobby pin from his hair, shaking his mane back in his face. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Daryl…"

"Alright, maybe… " He rests his head against the sofa and looks up at the ceiling. "I know I ain't never been good with feelings, but when it was just the two of us on the road… I dunno. I always liked those moments."

"I did too," I tell him softly.

"I guess it was just me, but I always thought there could be somethin' there." He lifts his head to look me in the eye now. "Between us."

I don't drop his gaze to ask, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because I ain't stupid. And I never wanted to fuck up what you and Rick had. Or didn't have."

"You're sweet," I smile.

"I'm just cautious," he counters, biting at his lip. "Rick ain't exactly somebody I wanna cross either. He's always done right by me."

I shake my head, mostly to get rid of all the ridiculous thoughts running through it. "He doesn't own me," I remind Daryl. "We're both free to do whatever we want."

"All right," he replies, still holding my stare captive. "Then what you wanna do?"

Maybe it's the alcohol, but I feel this magnetic pull between us and I find myself kissing him before I know it. It's a hungry kiss, because it's been a while, and I've been wanting... something. I pull my dress up around my waist so I can straddle him, his hands are gripping my ass, and I immediately know where this is going. My mind can't help but wander to Rick, because some part of me always figured he'd be my first, post-apocalypse. But he doesn't deserve these thoughts, so I do my best to push them away. What the hell am I saving myself for? Daryl tastes like liquor, and the only thing I want is to be drunk tonight.

' _cause i can't drink you away  
_ _i've tried jack, i've tried jim, i've tried all of their friends  
_ _i can't drink you away  
_ _on these rocks, i can't swim outta this skin i'm living in_


	12. calm

It was probably too early to be making house visits on a Saturday morning, but after the disaster that was Deanna's party the night before, I figured the sooner Michonne and I cleared the air, the better. I shouldn't have left the way I did, in the middle of our conversation, but I didn't know what else to say. She was standing there accusing me of not caring, just because I'd made a friend without her, when she was the one that left me in the first place. I'd never been the best at talking, as Lori used to remind me, but after having a few hours to cool off and sober up, I could try to do that much, at least.

I stood at the front of the Michonne-Daryl-Carol faction of the neighborhood, and took a deep breath as I knocked on the door. I almost wished I had brought Carl, just to diffuse the tension, but she would've seen right through that. Instead, I waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally, Carol answered the door silently, her blue eyes peering at me as if she knew I had done something wrong.

"Hey," I greeted her awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

"Hello..." She held the door close to her, as if she were trying to block me from seeing inside.

"...Is Michonne home?"

"Yes..." She turned back towards the interior, then looked at me. It felt like she was mad at me, but I couldn't think of a single reason why she would be herself. Maybe Michonne told her about our argument. "Just... wait here," she said sternly.

I frowned in puzzlement over her odd behavior, but I nodded in agreement. "All right." She didn't close the door on me completely, but enough for it to be discouraging. I thought sure Michonne was in the middle of telling her to get rid of me, but after a few minutes, she appeared in the threshold of the doorway. She was wearing a wrinkled version of her dress from the night before, but had a robe on top of it, and her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She was holding the side of her face, looking as if she'd been through hell.

"Are you all right?" I blurted out. I knew the way it came out was wrong because her scowl intensified.

"Jesus, Rick. Why don't you just say I look like shit?" She opened the door wide to let me inside and headed down her hallway towards the kitchen.

I closed the door and followed after nervously, hoping that that was what I was supposed to be doing. I found her sitting at the kitchen counter with a bottle of Advil, so I went ahead and took a seat with her. From there, I had a perfect view of their living room, where two big empty bottles of liquor were strewn across the floor.

"I didn't mean to be insulting," I finally said, taking in all her obvious misery. "I've just never seen you hung over before."

Her eyebrows raised in the equivalent of a shrug before she replied, "You've never seen a lot of sides of me."

"I guess that's true," I conceded, glancing out of the window to our right. "Last night included."

"You tryin' to start another fight?"

"I didn't start the last one," I retorted. "But no. I'm not."

"Well you're on thin ice there, so you might wanna tread lightly."

"Michonne, I came to apologize."

She looked at me with narrowed eyes as she downed her pills with a glass of water. "For what?"

"For last night. Whatever happened… I dunno. I just wish it hadn't."

"So you realize the problem is bigger than last night."

"Of course," I nodded, even if that wasn't true. I wasn't sure what the problem was, really. "It's a failure to communicate," I guessed. "Us not being honest with one another."

"I've been honest with you, Rick."

That was a lie in itself. "You still haven't even told me why you left," I reminded her. "There's no way you can think this is all on me." I gazed at her, waiting for an answer, because I really needed to know. Because if she did, then we had more problems than I thought.

After a few beats, her frown finally softened, and she sighed. "No. I just… wanna be mad at you, I guess."

"Why?"

"Because I don't get what's happening, and it's frustrating," she confirmed. "Why do we fall apart the second we get somewhere normal?"

"Maybe…" I shrugged, "Because what's normal for the spider is chaos for the fly."

She seemed to agree, smiling sadly at me. "This isn't who we are anymore."

"But it can be," I said hopefully.

"And hopefully, one day, it will be," she returned softly. "People in our group will acclimate. We'll get dogs, and have relationships, and make babies and cookies, and all the other mundane things the rest of these weirdos do."

I smiled at the thought. That was all I wanted for us. "So long as we don't forget what's out there."

"You really think there's a way for us to forget the hell we've been through?"

I chuckled, realizing that she was probably right. And there was nothing wrong with our journeys becoming a part of us. It was what I liked about us. "So…" I sighed, knowing that we were avoiding the actual subject at hand. "I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't left last night."

"No, you were probably right to leave. What I said was silly, and I'm sorry," she admitted. "It's really none of my business anyway."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, you're a grown man, you're free to spend your time however you choose. I think, in my inebriated state, I started feeling a little... overprotective."

"I dunno, I kinda liked you being 'overprotective,'" I had to admit. "But the fact that you..." I heard footsteps and then I saw her glance behind me, so I stopped mid-sentence, knowing we were no longer alone. I turned to find Daryl standing there, half-dressed and just as disheveled as Michonne had been. It was jarring to see him shirtless when the Daryl I knew was always in layers of clothing, with a leather vest to top it off. "Rough night?" I wondered jokingly.

He grunted something unintelligible on his way to the refrigerator as he scratched through his crazy hair. "What you doin' here so early?" he eventually asked me.

"Came to talk to this one," I pointed to Michonne. "Had some unfinished business to discuss."

"I bet..." He came to join us at the counter, where she was either avoiding his gaze or avoiding mine, because she refused to look up. He must have noticed it too, because he made it a point to address her. "You all right?"

She nodded, but kept her eyes on the countertop. "I just didn't sleep well."

"That tooth still botherin' you?"

"Killing me." She held the back of her cheek near her ear, wincing. "I can't even eat on this side anymore."

"Well... 'least we know you can drink," he grinned at her. I think that might've been the first time I'd ever seen Daryl crack a smile. What an odd sight.

"Very funny," she smiled back at him, finally looking his way. "Pretty sure I'll never do that again either."

"I guess y'all had your own party," I commented, my mind racing as I glanced back to those bottles in their living room.

"Yeah... I guess we did," she answered with an amused chuckle. "Last time I drank like that was when I turned thirty."

"You said twenty-nine last night," Daryl reminded her.

"Oh, whatever."

I watched her hit him lightly on his bare arm and I could feel my own body flinch in response. There was something bizarre between them that I couldn't quite put my finger on, but it was making me uncomfortable. Maybe it was just seeing her still in that dress, and him half naked, but I didn't like the vibe in the room. I felt out of place.

"I should get back," I announced abruptly. "The kids will be up soon, if they're not already…"

Michonne looked at me oddly and nodded. "That was all you wanted to say?"

I nodded my head, even though I had about twenty questions floating around in there. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

Daryl picked up the carafe of orange juice he'd pulled out and dismissed himself from our increasingly awkward conversation. "I'm gonna let y'all…"

"Yes, take everything we have left to drink," Michonne called after him playfully.

"Didn't hear you complainin' about it last night!"

She was smiling at him as if he was just so endlessly amusing, and I could feel my fingers clenching. "He was my drinking buddy," she confirmed. "After you and I had our little spat, I just didn't wanna stay at Deanna's."

"Yeah, I noticed…"

"How lo—"

"You sleep with him?" I cut her off to question. I knew it was rude to ask, but it was the first thing that popped into my head the minute Daryl appeared. It had been bursting to get out at that point.

Her big brown eyes finally locked with mine and her smile faded. "Yeah..."

I felt my face tense up and the room became hazy as I imagined them together. The two of them in some sweaty embrace as she moaned his name. Her legs wrapped around him as he fucked her drunkenly. I rubbed at my eyebrow, trying to get those thoughts away from me. I was glad she was honest, but I sure as hell didn't have to like it. "Why?" I was pushing it, I knew, but... I wanted to know.

"Does it matter?"

She went back to holding her face as she hopped down from her seat and went to the sink. "It's all right if our lives don't revolve around each other, isn't it?"

I stared at her blankly, feeling more confused than ever about my place in Michonne's life. Was she putting up a front, or did she genuinely not want me in that way? It couldn't have been just me feeling… things at that party. But then, she did start an argument and bring everything to a halt. Maybe it was just me. Shit. Why was everything so upside down inside these walls?

"I'm gonna go," I told her, once again.

"You didn't answer my question."

It took me a minute to think back on what she'd just asked me, and realize that I didn't have an answer. Only a counterpoint. "But what's wrong with it if they do?"

She stopped the running water and turned to face me with a serious look overtaking her features. "Everything I do, and everything I've done since I found you and Carl at that house has been centered around  _you_. I even moved here for the sake of us. I want so badly for us to be close, Rick, but I see you moving out of my orbit, and... that's fine. But I should get that same courtesy."

I sighed, knowing she was right. I had no claims on her, and no choice but to accept that. "All right then."

"You're mad about it, though."

I nodded, because I didn't want to admit out loud that I was. In fact, I hated that I was. But I also couldn't deny it. "I'm gonna go."

"Please don't leave just because the conversation gets messy." She started to move in closer to me, but stopped when I began to back away. "This will be the second time you've done this, Rick."

She didn't have to worry about there being a third time. Without another word, I turned to let myself out of the house.

* * *

I probably should've gone straight back to my place, where I could stew in my own misery, but I would've driven myself crazy. I would've made myself angrier, sitting there thinking about it. I needed to get my mind off of Michonne. I needed to let it go. So I went over to Rachael's.

She answered the door in a green cardigan, looking like Sunday morning, even though it was Saturday. I didn't understand how she could be so eternally peppy, but seeing her face always put a smile on mine. "Well look what the cat dragged in," she greeted me, pulling her door closed behind her. "You disappeared on me last night."

"I know," I nodded apologetically. "I wasn't feeling so great."

"Not used to all that alcohol flowing, huh?"

"Somethin' like that," I chuckled lightly. I glanced back at the empty streets and then at her thoughtfully. "You wanna take a walk?"

"Umm… sure?" She seemed simultaneously confused and delighted by the proposition. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Since we didn't get to talk last night, I just thought…"

"You seem a little down," she noticed, following me down her steps. We made a right, in the direction of my area of the neighborhood, as she joined my side.

"I'm all right," I promised, looking over to her. She seemed genuinely concerned, which I thought was nice of her. "I'm still trying to get used to this place, I guess."

"What is there to get used to?"

"I dunno, I think… the dynamic I have with my people is different now."

"Bad different?"

"I dunno," I repeated, feeling silly for not having an answer. "Maybe it's good that they're branching out and making lives for themselves."

She laughed as if that should've been obvious to me. "I would say so, yeah. I'd find it somewhat unhealthy if they weren't."

"It just feels like they're moving on without me."

"You don't think you're making a life for yourself?"

"No, I do," I nodded sincerely. "But out on the road, it was like… I was dragging them along, and sometimes, they were dragging me along. It was this weird, symbiotic kinda relationship. And now, it's just sort of fizzled into… nothin'."

She stopped walking and faced me, looking me in the eye. "You're really struggling with this."

I was, but I didn't know how to tell her that  _They_  was really just Michonne. That probably would've made me sound crazier than I already did. "Change is hard."

"It is," she conceded, continuing to walk again. "I've noticed you have this weird sort of... addiction to what's out there. But you told me you spent all that time on the road with hopes of finding place like this. So what gives?"

The fact that I was losing my best friend. "I don't know."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," she started, linking her arm with mine, "I don't think your people are going anywhere. Maybe they're just taking a minute to breathe. Maybe they finally feel free inside these walls."

I smiled at that assessment, because it really did make me feel better. "Maybe so."

"Geez, who knew Rick Grimes was so goddamn insecure," she teased, glancing up at me. "I thought I had you pegged."

"Is that so?" I joked back. "Pegged as what?"

"This stone-cold badass, with a soft spot for a very select few people in his inner circle."

I kinda liked that estimation. "And now what do you think?"

"That you're just a big softy all around," she grinned. "I bet you'd sit around eating ice cream all day in your pajamas... if we had ice cream. Or pajamas."

"Jesus." I pulled my arm away, pretending I wanted to get away from her. "You don't know me at all, Menken."

She laughed as we both waved to Tara and Holly headed down the street. "Admittedly, I don't know you. But I'd like to get there."

"Even with all this baggage I've clearly been carrying around?"

"Especially with all your baggage."

I understood what she was implying, wanting to be in my inner circle and all, but I just wasn't sure I had room for her. My feelings for Michonne were taking up so much space. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say much of anything. Just a light chuckle to fill the silence.

She stopped our stroll again, which put Michonne's house right in my line of sight. Just great. But Rachael obviously didn't notice as she went on to say, "Like, I've been meaning to ask you for nearly a week now… why do you still wear your wedding ring?"

I took my gaze off of the house across from us to look at her squarely. "What?"

"I know it's an odd thing to ask, given that I still wear mine… but I was just wondering your reasoning."

I instinctively glanced down at my left hand, where the wedding band I'd put on so, so many years ago was still staring back at me, shining under the early morning sun. "I dunno," I said, looking back up at her. "I guess I've just been running so much, I haven't had time to stop and think about taking it off."

"That's a pretty good excuse, I'd say."

"Better than yours?" I guessed.

"It's the only  _thing_  I have from before." She held out her beautifully broken hand, examining her own ring and likely what it meant to her. "We lost all of our things. Which, I know, is nothing in the grand scheme of all this. But when you're in a place like this... I dunno. It's good here, and it gives the illusion of what everything was like before... but it's not before. And I guess I've just been too afraid to take it off. I don't wanna lose the last shred of what I had."

I understood that conflicted feeling all too well. Wanting to let go, but not knowing how. "Does that make us crazy?"

"Probably so," she replied, laughing. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Nothing at all." I found myself smiling again as I briefly took her hand into mine. I gazed at her cautiously as I suggested, "Maybe it's time for us both to let go."

Her green eyes began to water as she took in what I was trying to say. "As in right now?"

"As in right now," I nodded.

With a deep breath, she accepted the challenge and slowly pulled her wedding band from her left hand, leaving it bare next to her missing pinky. She smiled at the sight and then up at me. "Your turn."

It was Michonne's face that flashed through my mind as I slid my own ring from my finger and clutched it in my opposite hand. I could picture her smiling at me proudly, then suggesting I give it to Carl. I could imagine us holding hands, walking down this very street with Judy. I saw us back at that party last night, about as close as we'd ever gotten to anything physical. It was so vivid, I even remembered what she smelled like last night. But then my mind betrayed me with images of her and Daryl again, and I ended up dropping the ring to the ground. I looked at Michonne's house one last time as I picked it up and stuffed it in my pocket.

I never knew I was addicted to what was out there until I came in here. In that same vein, I never knew I how much I wanted Michonne until I didn't need her. But I was quickly learning that if I had any chance at making this new life work, I would have to let go.


	13. don't speak

I'm over this. I'm over Rick and his little disappearing act. I'm over him never being available when I come by; showing up to the job five minutes before I'm scheduled to leave – and even there, he says  _Hey_ , like nothing is wrong, when it's so painfully obvious that he's trying to ignore me. It's been two weeks since Deanna's party, since he walked out of my house and went straight to Rachael, and we still haven't had that talk. Maybe it's easy for him; maybe I don't mean as much to him as I once thought, but I am  _over_  this shit.

I go over to his house, once again, to tell him exactly that. I know he's out on a run with his new BFF, but I've got nothing but time, and I'm not leaving this place until I see him. I refuse to let us wither away like we never existed. We'll either fight, or we'll die trying, but I will not go gentle into that good night.

_you and me_  
_we used to be together_  
_everyday together, always_  
_i really feel that i'm losing my best friend  
_ _i can't believe this could be the end_

When I arrive at Rick's house, Rachael's mom answers the door to let me in. She tells me about how Judith has been crawling around all afternoon with not a care in the world. I walk in to find that this is entirely true, though she does smile up at me when she sees me. Carl and Noah are on the couch playing Mortal Kombat, which I'm certain they're not supposed to be doing, and Olivia is watching them. "Hello," I announce to the distracted kids.

They all look up at me, seemingly surprised that I'm there. Carl immediately hops up from his seat with a grin. "Hey, Michonne."

"Dude," Noah says, looking back at the TV. "You just killed yourself."

"It's all right," he waves off dismissively. "Liv, you can take my turn." He then comes over to me and wraps his arms around my torso. "Where have you been?"

"I've been around," I shrug, not wanting to make it a big deal, even if it is one. "'Where've  _you_  been?' is the better question."

"Around," he smiles back at me. "Doing homework, mostly."

"Looks like you've been playing a lot of video games mostly."

"It's Saturday." He brings me over to the couch and sits down, likely expecting me to do the same. "We've saved up like ten hours over the week."

I sit down next to Mrs. Landers and offer her a small grin in her direction. "How have you been?"

"I've been good," she smiles back at me and it reminds me of my own mother, honestly. She has a very soothing demeanor. "You doing okay?" she asks me.

I can see why Rick trusts her with his kids, because I find myself wanting to be honest with her; wanting to air out all my grievances. But I decide against it and just nod. "I am."

"Good." She pats my leg tenderly and stands from her seat to pick up Judith from the floor. "I'll see you later, little lady."

"Thanks," I reply, accepting the infant as I realize Mrs. Landers is preparing to leave. I haven't held Judy in weeks now, and it feels good to do it again. "Hi there, jelly bean."

"You need anything before I go?"

I had no plans on babysitting, so I do a quick glance around the room and then shake my head. "I think I'm good," I say, realizing how glad I am that I'll get to spend some time with the kids. "Thank you."

"Liv, are you coming home for dinner?" she asks her granddaughter.

"Do I have to?"

"Well, that's up to Michonne, but you be back by dark either way."

"Will Mom be home by then?" she asks distractedly.

"No clue." She gives me a friendly glance and heads for the door. "You send her right on home if she gets on your nerves."

I smile back at her, almost feeling bad for hating her daughter as much as I do, for no reason other than jealousy. "I may send all four of them back over there," I joke. "Have a good evening."

"You too, sweetie."

I watch her leave and prepare to get settled in for a long wait. There's no telling when Rick will be home, so I may as well get comfortable. "I got next," I declare excitedly, figuring I could use my girl Kitana as a distraction for a bit. The three teenagers smile back at me, and it hits me then how easily I fit in at this house. How it feels like my home in a way that it shouldn't after being away from it for so long. And I can't help but think that maybe I did make a mistake moving out of here. Shit.

* * *

After a couple of hours of Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter, Carl and I are sitting in the kitchen, polishing off our meal of spaghetti, which is basically a staple around here, and some apple juice that Carl had learned to make earlier in the week. He decided to send Olivia on home himself, wanting to spend some QT with me, which was incredibly sweet. And Noah went off to Tara's once he finished eating, so it's just the two of us, save for Judith.

We've been chatting about The Sopranos, because apparently he's been watching the DVDs on weekdays after homework. I should probably be lecturing him about how inappropriate that show is for him, but I'm just really excited for him to get to the end so we can discuss it. I'm so curious to hear his interpretation of that final scene.

"You let me know when you get to the finale," I tell him as I collect our empty plates. "We'll watch it together, and make it a whole event."

"Really?" He sounds hopeful. "Can my dad come? He's been trying to catch up, too."

I turn back to him with a frown, wishing he didn't think he had to ask such a question. "Of course he can."

"I mean you guys won't be weird about it?"

"Weird how?"

"Like how you've been separating yourselves from each other lately."

I lean against the sink, gazing at my buddy and all his honesty. I hate that he'd noticed. But of course he did. Rick and I had turned to virtual strangers in just a matter of weeks. "Carl, no matter what happens, your dad and I will always be friends," I promise. "Even if we can't be as close as we were on the outside, I think we can watch a TV show together." I smile at him comfortingly before returning to the dishes.

"Hey, Michonne?"

"Yes, Carl?"

"How come you keep holding your face like you're in pain?"

"Because I am," I chuckle back at him. "I've had some kind of tooth infection since we got to Virginia."

"That's a long time."

"It is." I turn to face him and try to open my mouth so he can see what I'm talking about, but it hurts too much to do even that much. "It's getting worse," is all I can say.

"What are you gonna do?" he wonders, obviously worried for me.

"I don't know." As I go back to the table to fetch the spaghetti bowl, I quickly run my hand over his head. "I'll be fine, though."

"Too bad Dr. Cloyd isn't a dentist, huh?"

"That would just be too easy," I joke. I begin to make a plate for Rick, for whenever he decides to come home, and wrap up the remainder to put in the refrigerator. "Breakfast tomorrow," I comment to him.

He chuckles in response, shaking his head. "Noah will probably eat it before then."

I start to make a crack about how scrawny Noah is, but then the door begins to unlock, and we both turn to the sound, knowing that it's most likely Rick, finally. It's nearly 10:00, but I'm just thankful I didn't have to wait all night. "Carl, why don't you head upstairs for a bit," I say to the kid, wanting to talk to Rick alone as soon as I can. No more distractions.

He nods understandingly and disappears from the dining area just as Rick comes into view. He's got on that tight brown shirt again and a confused frown on his face. "Hey," he says to me cautiously.

"Hey."

"Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," I promise, trying to sound as even-keeled as possible. "I just came to hang out. The kids are fed, Judith's in bed, and Carl just went upstairs himself." He nods, still seemingly baffled as he takes a glance around the kitchen and then into the living room. "Noah's at Tara's," I add.

"How long you been here?"

"Since this afternoon," I shrug. "I told Mrs. Landers it would be okay."

He nods again as his eyes give the stove a once-over. "You made dinner?"

"I did." I pick up the plate I'd just prepared for him and head into the dining area, where I know he prefers to eat. It takes him a second to follow after me, but finally, he does. "This one's yours."

"You already ate, I assume."

"I did. But I'd like to sit with you anyway."

He gazes at me hesitantly, as if he doesn't know what to think about me in that moment. Like he's considering whether I'm trying to poison him. "Why are you doing this?"

_it looks as though you're letting go  
_ _and if it's real then i don't want to know_

"Because I miss you," I return genuinely. "Because I want us to talk, and I don't want you to have any more chances to get away from me."

"So you corner me in my home?" he smirks.

"If that's what you wanna call it…"

"What if I don't have anything to say?" he asks hoarsely, squinting his eyes at me.

I narrow mine right back, knowing he's lying. "You have a lot to say. And you punishing me by keeping it bottled up is gonna be the thing that fucks us up for good."

"I'm not punishing you, Michonne."

"Then speak."

"You're not gonna make me have this conversation," he says with a sigh, running his hand over his face. "I'm exhausted. Maybe we can do this tomorrow."

I feel my face growing hot as he turns to walk back towards the kitchen. "Get back here," I say loudly and sternly.

"I'm not hungry."

I angrily knock the plate full of spaghetti from the table, ignoring the loud crash that the plate makes as it hits the floor. Food is everywhere, and I couldn't care less. "Talk to me!" I shout.

He turns back around, glaring at me, but doesn't say anything, likely because Carl's footsteps are coming quickly down the staircase. When he finds us, we're standing across from one another, looking more like adversaries than any kind of friends.

"Is everything okay?" Carl asks worriedly.

Rick is still looking at me as he answers his son firmly. "Get your sister and go over to Carol's."

"But Dad, she-."

" _Now_." As he exits the room to do as told, Rick doesn't take his eyes off of me. He's got that feral look in his eye, as if he wants to fight me. Finally. "You wanna talk?" he asks, his voice in a low whisper. "Talk about why you fucked Daryl."

I frown at him because I can't understand why he thinks he has a right to this information. "Why does it matter?"

"Why do you keep avoiding the question?"

"Why do you keep asking it?" I quip. "That question rolls off your tongue so easily, because of your bruised ego, I suppose, but have you ever thought about asking me something about... I dunno, me?"

His bright blue eyes dart up at me curiously, as if I've said something foreign. "What?"

"Name one thing you know about me from before all this started. One thing," I beg of him softly. "I'll wait."

"You used to talk to your dead boyfriend..." he offers lamely, and it sounds like he's not even sure if that's right.

"That was after."

Silence.

"I know where you lived; I know what you did for a living; I know you were married; I know you had a fucking asshole for a best friend. I know you and your wife probably would've ended up divorced even if the world hadn't ended," I say. "And honestly? I'm starting to see why, so maybe you're more of a problem than you think you are…"

He waits until Carl and Judith have left the house before he responds to my statement. His eyes stay on them until they make it across the street to my house, but he speaks at a normal level now. "Don't start hurling insults just because you know some things about me." He then turns back to me. "And how is it my fault that you don't talk about your life?"

"You've never asked!" I'm yelling again, feeling my blood pressure rising and my face hurting. "And I know we started off rocky, but we're friends, right? Supposedly? And yet, not once, in all our travels, have you sat down with me to talk about me. And that's fine, it really is. But don't stand there and act like I'm some closed book when you never once tried to open it." I gaze down at the floor, where spaghetti sauce is seeping towards my foot, like blood oozing out of an open wound. "It's not like you've volunteered a bunch of information yourself," I go on. "I just cared enough to get to fucking know you. And I'm not saying you don't care, because I know you do, but... you have a funny way of showing it."

"When did it become some rule that I have to know your backstory to show that I care about you?"

"It's not a rule," I admit, although it frustrates me to do so. "But even now, it's like… Why did it take Rachael for you to take off your wedding ring?" It's probably silly that I even noticed such a thing, but that bare finger has been like a flashing neon sign that he's moving on, and not with me. "I've been here, Rick."

He shrugs, gazing at his left hand as well. "Rachael and I have been through the same sort of thing. I don't know." He rests both his hands on the back of the chair he's been standing behind, as he peers at me. "You know, you say you've been here, but… you're the one that left."

"And I fucked Daryl," I say sarcastically, beginning to raise my voice again. "Who the fuck cares! Unless I moved two towns over and said, 'Don't ever talk to me again,' I don't understand why that caused such a seismic shift in our relationship."

"Because you fuckin' hurt me, Michonne. You don't see that?"

"Do you know how much of your shit I've had to endure?" I retort angrily. "Just for you to let me in the door? For you to consider me a part of your family? All Abraham had to do was stand beside you, but me? I had to  _literally fight_  for this. I went to war with you." The words are tumbling out of my mouth so quickly, I can barely catch them. "You were gonna give me to the goddamn Governor, Rick. I almost died trying to get out of that; trying to get back to you. So don't you dare act like I haven't done the work. Me leaving, me staying, my relationship with Daryl… it doesn't undo all of that."

_don't speak_  
_i know just what you're saying_  
_so please stop explaining_  
_don't tell me 'cause it hurts_  
_don't speak_  
_i know what you're thinking_  
_i don't need your reasons  
_ _don't tell me 'cause it hurts_

He swallows visibly, and I can tell he's moved by my rant at least. He seems to be internalizing it as he takes a seat at the table. "I've always wanted to know you," he says quietly. He chuckles ruefully as he goes on. "I make up facts about you in my head. Who you were, how you grew up, who you loved before me..."

I hate it, but I smile at the fact that he implies that I love him.

"I guess I could've asked you about all that instead of talking about food for the umpteenth time," he continues. "I don't know why I never did." His hand goes over his face again, then rubs at his stubbly chin. "I think that's why I was so put off when you left. I thought this was our chance to really get to know each other. For me to uncover you."

Out of nowhere, a tear goes rolling down my cheek and I make no hesitation of wiping it away. I feel those same butterflies I did when I watched his interview, where he said I was fearless. Where did that guy go? "What changed?"

He looks up at me seriously. Sadly. "Everything."

_it's all ending  
_ _gotta stop pretending who we are_

Oh, the irony. The thing I did to try and save us was the thing that tore us apart. "I hate this."

"I do, too."

I lean against the chair in front of me, resting my head in my hands. I'm finding it nearly impossible to look at him right now. I just want us to go back to being us. "I stopped mattering to you the second you didn't need me anymore," I comment in a whisper.

"That couldn't be further from the truth, Michonne. I'm not the one that fucked someone else."

And here we go again. All these feelings swirling around – love, hurt, hope, confusion, jealousy. We're a mess, and we just add another layer, falling deeper into this chasm, the more we explore it. I exhale heavily, frustrated beyond belief.

_you and me, i can see us dying  
_ _are we?_

"Say something," he demands quietly.

"What is there to say, Rick? You don't trust me anymore."

He glares at me for using Gareth's words against him. Probably thinking I used Daryl against him, too. But then he stands from his chair and crosses the room so that there's no longer a table between us. There's nothing between us, in fact, and he moves in to kiss me. Hard. My back is pressed against this chair and it feels like he's pulling the air from my lungs as he takes me in. Our lips are connected, our tongues are tangled, and I'm quite literally breathless for a moment. But then this pain jolts through my lower jaw, and I pull back suddenly, holding my face. He sighs, clearly annoyed to know that it's my tooth again. Something else to drive us apart.

He walks away from our exchange and goes back into the kitchen, slamming several cabinets and drawers. The silence of the house only illuminates his every movement. I can tell by his walk that he's on a mission, and by his breathing that he's not so sure about it.

He eventually returns to me with a bottle of Jack in one hand, and a glass in the other. With a quick glance my way, he wordlessly sets down the glass and pours a double, and then passes it to me before pulling out the nearest chair, away from the spaghetti mess. As I take the seat, he retrieves a pair of pliers from his back pocket, and I know what's about to happen. What has to happen. But it still boggles my mind that he says nothing. He doesn't ask; he doesn't instruct me in any way. He's trusting me to trust him.

I take a big gulp of the whiskey, swishing it around in my mouth before opening wide for him – wider than my threshold for pain is really trying to allow, but I suppose this is the only way out of this. With his eyes locked on mine, he holds the top of my head and soothingly tilts my head back so he can reach inside. I'm terrified, but his gaze is a comfort. He's relaying that this will hurt, and he's sorry; but I nod, willing him to go on.

The second the pliers hit my tooth, I gasp in pain. He's got a good grip and he's tugging and twisting as gently as he can, but there's no tame way to do this. It's agony. Not only do I feel my tooth ripping from my gums, but I can hear it. In fact, I know from experience that there's nothing louder than what's happening inside your head. Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_  this hurts. He finally gets something out, and we both look to see that it's only half the tooth. I want to scream. He sighs again, and drops it to the table, while I spit a big wad of blood into my glass, understanding that he has to go back in.

With my head back, we repeat the same actions. But this time, I grip his shirt tightly and steel myself for him to wrestle with my jaw again. Under the sounds of this cracking, and my moans of pain, we're so close that our eyes are practically melted into one another. This is a bond like no other. This is more than knowing someone's backstory, and it's much bigger than taking your clothes off and having sex. This is pure, unadulterated intimacy.

A tear rolls down my cheek, and I'm not sure whether it's from the pain, or from the realization that I'm completely in love with this man.

Goddamn it. I think it's the latter.

_don't speak_  
_i know what you're thinking_  
_and i don't need your reasons  
_ _i know you good, i know you good, i know you real good_


	14. lazy sunday

After our exhausting conversation and what had to be the most painful tooth extraction since the invention of procaine, I sent Michonne to my room while I cleaned up the mess we'd made in the dining room. I then headed upstairs to get a quick shower, and then I would leave her to rest. That was the plan, anyway.

The bathroom was full of steam by the time I stepped into the shower stall, so it took a bit for me to realize that I wasn't alone. "Michonne?" I called out, even though I could tell from the blurry silhouette that it was her.

"Yeah?" she answered casually.

She probably just had to pee, but I still felt odd, standing there completely naked, behind a glass door. I kept my back to her. "You all right?"

The door opened and I couldn't help but turn around then. She stood before me, naked from head to toe and I couldn't take my eyes off of her – the look on her face as she licked her lips, the smoothness of her skin, the exquisiteness of her shoulders, down to her world-class, supple breasts; the splendid curve of her hips, down to the lips between her thighs. She was the definition of perfect.

She had a look in her eye that I had never seen before, as she wordlessly stepped in the stall to join me. She gently pressed her soft body against my wet one and we slithered underneath the water together. I wasted no time finding her breasts and how they fit perfectly into my hands; I took them into my mouth, sucking at her nipples, one at a time. Her hands were gripping my hair and she was already bracing herself against the shower wall to wrap her long legs around me. I gladly welcomed them, pushing apart her perfectly thick thighs. As soon as I touched her, I wondered how I'd gone this long without doing it.

As I pushed inside her gently, she put her hands on either side of my face and everything else seemed to fall away. I had never gotten so lost in a kiss before. Her mouth tasted like her blood and I couldn't have cared less. I tasted her and realized I'd been starving. My heart kept missing beats and my hands couldn't bring her close enough. She gripped my neck tightly, breathing heavily in my ear as the water beat down on top of our heads. Our bodies fit together like missing puzzle pieces. I've had good sex, and I've made love, but neither felt like this. It didn't burn me alive. I didn't know what would happen next - maybe this would last an hour, maybe we'd last a lifetime. What I did know is that I'd been waiting forever for this woman.

* * *

_when you call my name_  
_when you love me gently_  
_when you're walking near me  
_ _i'm in really love with you_

The next morning, I woke up to find Michonne fast asleep just next to me, her leg wrapped around my waist. The Sunday morning sun streaming in and bouncing off of her face made her look like an angel. And the white sheets tangled against her dark skin made her look like a goddess. She was so damn beautiful. As I brushed her hair from her face, her eyes fluttered open, focusing in on me sleepily.

"Hey," I said quietly, smiling down at her.

She closed her eyes and yawned, rolling over so that she was lying on her back. "Good morning."

I laid back against my pillow as well, still gazing over at her. "How are you feeling?"

"So much better." She quickly ran her fingers over her lips and then rested her hand on her face. "Thank you."

"Thank you for trusting me."

"Thank  _you_  for trusting  _me_ ," she smirked. She yawned again, and sat up straight, letting the sheets fall from her naked body. "What time is it?"

"I have no idea," I answered, making no secret of the fact that I was staring.

"Are the kids home?"

"No clue."

She looked back at me, amused. "You want some breakfast?"

"Nope." I snaked my arm around her waist, pulling her back down with me in a soft crash. "I just wanna lay here with you all day."

"Mmm," she sighed, nestling close to me once again. "That sounds like fun."

"And tomorrow, too."

I could hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "And the day after that, too."

"And forever."

"Forever ever?"

"For _ever_  ever?" I chuckled, mimicking the song I knew she was referencing. "Yes."

She laughed in reply, letting her hand rest against my chest as she glanced up at me. "What do you know about Outkast?"

"Excuse you," I answered jokingly. "I am Georgia born and bred, you know."

"I do know this. But you strike me as someone more into… I dunno, Rascal Flatts."

"Oh, so you think I'm one dimensional."

"Well I wasn't gonna say it, but…"

"I know all you city folks think small towns are full of country bumpkins, but believe it or not, we had radio stations and even the internet," I said, playing up my twang. "We were exposed to all kindsa music."

"Shut up." I could feel her face moving against my chest as she laughed. "You just made as many assumptions about me as I did about you."

"Oh, so you're not city folk?"

"I am," she admitted. "But my grandmother was from a small town near Columbus, and I would visit her all the time. Spent full summers there, so… I know about country livin'."

I looked down at her, genuinely surprised. I thought she spent her summers in Switzerland or something. "How much did you hate it?"

"So much." She rested her chin on my chest so that she could look at me as she spoke. "It was always me and a couple of my cousins that I really couldn't stand, and we'd be at each other's throats for two months straight."

"You mean you didn't get along with someone? That is shocking."

"Shut up!" she giggled again. "But in all seriousness, I didn't realize how much I cherished those moments until I got older, and my parents sent me to all these foreign places. The year before I started college, I spent my entire summer indoors, learning Russian and Mandarin. Made me really miss those moments where I sat on my grandma's porch, eating homemade ice cream."

"You didn't like traveling?" I wondered curiously.

"I loved it," she frowned to refute the question. "It taught me a lot; especially about how to be okay with being alone." Our eyes locked as she spoke. "But sometimes, that loneliness sneaks up on you. Especially when you've been gone a long time, and you just wanna talk to someone you  _know_. It's not easy being away from home."

"Did you ever tell your parents how you felt?"

She rolled her eyes at such an idea. "No. That's not something you complain about."

"Why not?" I frowned back.

"Because I knew what was expected of me," she shrugged. "It's not like it would've changed anything."

As I internalized her words, I realized that that gave me a lot of insight into Michonne as a person. Why she was so withdrawn when we first met. It had taken real work for her to open up, and I seemed to be doing everything in my power to quell that by not opening up myself. "Did you enjoy your life before, Michonne?"

"I did," she answered with a thoughtful smile. "I was working my way up to partner at my law firm. I was happily unmarried to this beautiful man named Mike – he was a chef, and used to spoil me rotten," she grinned. But it slowly faded as she gazed at me seriously, and I could tell she was regretting whatever happened to him. I was so scared to ask, but I wanted to know so badly. And then the real bomb was dropped. "And we had a son."

"You what?" I returned before I could even think about it.

She let out a big sigh as she continued to look me in the eye. "His name was Andre. And as I know you know all too well about your children, he was my everything. He was the one to show me that I didn't know shit about life until he came into it."

I sat there, stunned, at a complete loss for words as I felt her tears fall against my skin. No wonder she thought I was an asshole for never asking about her. She had so much going on beneath the surface. She was fearless in a way that I didn't even know. With her hand rested over my heart, I squeezed it lightly. "They died after?" I guessed, feeling a tear roll down my own cheek.

Her eyes affirmed my assumption. "Those pet walkers Merle told you about?"

"Yeah?"

"One of them was Mike. The other was our friend. Terry." She exhaled again, turning her face so that her cheek rested against me, her tears continuing to fall. "They let it happen. The place we were at got overrun, and they were too high to save my baby or themselves. I wanted to punish them," she sniffled. "I wanted to punish myself."

I ran my fingers through her hair as I softly responded, "For what?"

"For not being there."

"Well if I know anything about you, I know you were gone for good reason."

"Trying to find food," she confirmed with a scoff. "It could've waited, though."

"Hey." I waited for her to look up at me, and I used my thumb to wipe her tears away. "Don't do that."

"It's the truth, Rick."

"I know you had to have made some sort of peace with it to get this far. To have taken care of Judy and Carl the way you have. Don't backslide and start thinking of all your mistakes… especially if they weren't actually mistakes."

"Like I said," she sighed, "sometimes it just sneaks up on you."

"Well when it does… no matter when, no matter where, I want you to tell me... talk to me. I'll be the person you know."

"You don't have that kinda time," she smiled sadly.

"My life is nothing but room for you," I promised, looking her in the eye. "That's all it ever will be."

_when you look at me_  
i open up instantly  
_i fall in love so quickly  
_ _i'm in really love with you_

She moved our sheets out of the way and pulled herself up so that she was straddling me, making us face to face, skin to skin. "Why didn't we do this sooner?"

I shook my head as my hands roamed over her strong shoulders and down her arms. "Because you were too stubborn to apologize and I was too stubborn to forgive you," I grinned.

She narrowed her big brown eyes at me suspiciously. "I think you have that backwards, Mr. Grimes."

I had no intentions of starting another argument, so I just smiled and agreed. "All right." I gave her ass a gentle squeeze, pulling her close for a kiss. And as she moved her naked body further up mine, it was clear to us both that we were ready for Round 2.

_i'm in really love with you…_

* * *

"What did you like to do on rainy days?"

"Paint," was her simple answer.

"Really? Like, on a canvas?"

"Mostly," she nodded. "But I did a mural in André's room when he was born. It was this really beautiful Amazonian forest, where I only used shades of green. Was working on another one for my home office when everything happened."

"So you were good at it," I marveled.

"I guess…"

"So we've got… full-time mom, corporate lawyer, part-time painter, all-around sword-wielding badass, video game enthusiast, you shoot whiskey like it's a gun, you like to cook, you know more languages than I know words in English..." I was shaking my head in disbelief that one person could be so many different, wonderful things. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

She giggled in response, causing her stomach to contract beneath my face. "Well when you put it that way..."

"I mean, I already thought it before, but that just confirms that you are just too good for this life. We don't deserve you."

"Don't sell yourself so short there, Rick." She held my hand over her chest and smiled. "You created an entire family – fourteen people that you would kill and die for – virtually out of thin air," she said, shaking her head now. "That's not nothing."

"I appreciate that," I grinned back at her, "but that wasn't something I set out to do."

"Which makes it all the more astounding. Because that's just who you are. If you love someone, you love him, no questions asked. Even when you had nothing else to give, you still gave us love."

"You're right," I admitted, feeling a tiny bit of pride for what she'd seen in me. I did love her.

"Well when am I not right?" she joked.

I began to trail my finger along the peaks and valleys of her chest, eventually circling her hardened nipples as I smiled up at her. "Tell me about the best sex you've ever had. Before."

"Oh god." She laughed lightly, letting it fade into a mixture of a sigh and a soft moan. "Wow... I don't know."

"Just too many come to mind, huh?"

"Something like that," she grinned.

"Just tell me the first thing that popped into your head," I offered, moving my fingers from her breast and slowly down her torso to her belly button. I wanted to trace every inch of her.

"The first thing that popped into my head was you..."

I felt myself blushing and just held her tiny waist in my hands for a moment. "I said 'before.'"

"I know," she nodded. "And still, all I could think about was last night and this morning."

I couldn't contain the smile on my face as my fingers continued down the crevice between her thighs. "Answer the question..."

"From before," she exhaled sharply. "Okay. I think it would have to be when Mike and I were flying to Hawaii."

"On the plane?" I asked in surprise.

She nodded. "He had been teasing me for hours, much in the same way you're doing right now. And somewhere over the Pacific, I just couldn't take it anymore. I pulled him into the bathroom and told him to make it good. He came through like a champ, as he always did."

I smiled at her happy memory as my hands carefully and unhurriedly explored Michonne's body. "I think mine was in a bathroom too, actually."

"Tell me about it."

"Well…" I sighed, keeping my eyes on her. "Lori and I had driven up to Atlanta for my birthday. She got tickets for us to see Paul McCartney at Philips Arena. So we got a hotel and made a whole weekend out of it. To make a long story short, we liked to do this role-playing thing whenever we were in the city, where we pretended we were strangers. So at the concert, we just took that and ran with it." I chuckled fondly as I recalled that entire night. "We were drunk," I remembered. "And still completely in love. We snuck into one of those executive suites and just went to town on each other."

"So birthday sex  _and_  bathroom sex," she nodded approvingly. "That's a double whammy."

It wasn't lost on me how odd it was to be discussing what sex was like with our dead lovers. But I was glad we were open enough to do it. I grinned at this epiphany as my hands made their way down to her feet. I slowly ran my finger along the tops of each of her toes, then around her ankle before stopping. "You know what you need?"

"What?" She watched me sit up straight and begin to climb out of bed, but she stopped me. "Don't you dare move," she groaned, holding onto my wrist. "We were so nice and warm."

It was certainly hard to leave her there, lying perfectly naked, even if only for a second. "I'll be right back," I promised.

She let go of my arm and gave my bare ass a quick squeeze. "Hurry."

I headed into the bathroom, where I remembered seeing a caboodle full of nail polish beneath one of the cabinets. I wasn't sure how many of them had survived neglect, but I pulled out the case anyway and brought it to Michonne. "Pick a color."

She rolled to her side and looked up at me like I was crazy. "What?"

"You heard me," I retorted.

"For what?"

"For yourself. I'll give you a pedicure."

She was smiling uncontrollably as she sat up and gazed at me specifically. "Why are you doing this?"

I sat down with her, watching as she picked through the assortment of options. "Because why not?"

* * *

"What was… your favorite holiday?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at her contemplatively. "I dunno… Christmas I guess."

"You guess?"

"I think so. After Carl got old enough to enjoy it, it was all we ever worried about."

"Kids," she noted with a nod. She glanced down at her toes and gave me a smile of approval. "Nicely done, sir."

I looked down at my work, pretty happy with the results myself. "I dunno whether to be proud or ashamed that I'm so good at painting toenails."

"Wear it with pride," she assured me with a grin. "It's a good skill to have."

"Even now?" I asked. I went back to brushing a final coat of turquoise polish over her big toe.

"Especially now."

We had officially been in my bedroom all day now. The sun was setting as we continued to lie there unclothed while undressing each other emotionally. Invading each other's personal space in every way imaginable. Our past lives had been explored to death, and still, there were more questions to ask. More reasons not to leave this bed. This was the best day I could remember having in a long, long time.

_when you touch me there_  
_when you make me tingle_  
_when our nectars mingle  
_ _i'm in really love with you_

"It feels like maybe we should check on the kids," she proclaimed, glancing out to the orange view. "Carl hasn't bothered us since noon."

"I think he got the message after the third time," I chuckled. "Either that, or he went back to your house."

"Well, as much as Carol's been baking lately, that is probably the best place to be."

I closed the cap on the nail lacquer and set it on the nightstand before turning back for Michonne. I fell back onto the bed, using her body as my pillow. "I beg to differ."

She began to tangle her fingers in the ends of my hair and then deeper towards my scalp. "You're sweet."

"It feels like you don't agree..."

"No, I do," she answered softly, lifting her leg to examine her toes again. "I was just thinking… that maybe I shouldn't have left."

I glanced in the direction of her face, though I couldn't see it very well. "No shit, Michonne."

"Oh, shut up," she was grinning. "I like my house and I love my roommates. I love being able to branch out and have a life outside of you."

I nodded, because I had enjoyed that bit of our separation, too. Maybe even needed it. "So do I," I admitted quietly. "But the truth is, when I took off my ring, it was you I was thinking of. I always thought it would be Lori, but… it was only your face that I saw."

_i'm not an easy man to overstand, you feel me?_  
_but girl you're patient with me  
_ _i'm in really love with you_

She stopped running her fingers through my hair and sat up a bit. "I saw you guys out there," she said with a frown on her face. "And I wasn't sure if you were trying to make me see you or what, but when you took off that ring? With her? I wanted to run out there and knock you out."

"That's not what I was doing," I chuckled.

"I didn't really think so, but I couldn't be sure, since you left all irrationally."

"I left because I was mad at you."

"And irrational because of it," she maintained. "But… to know that you were thinking of me is just…" She was smiling at the notion.

"I couldn't help but think that it should've been you standing there with me."

"Then why did you do it with her?"

"I don't know. Probably my ego, in some strange way," I nodded. "She asked me about it, and it seemed like a good way to move on from you."

She gave the top of my forehead a harsh tap. "Fuck you for thinking that."

"Fuck you for sleeping with Daryl," I retorted, half-jokingly. I was less upset about it than I had been, but it still flashed through my head here and there. "I know it's not my business," I said, looking up at her, "but just tell me why."

"It's bothering you that much?"

"Enough."

She lifted my head and sat up completely straight, letting my head fall back into her lap. She smiled at me warmly as I softly kissed the flesh of her stomach. "The truth is, I don't know."

"You don't know why you slept with him?"

"I mean, there wasn't much thought put into it. We were both drunk and didn't wanna be alone that night."

I accepted that thoughtfully, but I suppose I didn't want it to be that simple. I needed there to be a  _reason_. "So it wasn't to piss me off?"

"No," she snorted, shaking her head at me. "I thought about you in that moment where I was deciding whether I would do it or not. Because I kinda always thought it would be you, I guess, but... no, this wasn't some act of revenge. I like Daryl."

"Yeah… I know you do."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Because I know you do," I chuckled. "And he likes you."

"I think so..."

"So is there somethin' more there?" I asked cautiously. "I'm not trying to get in the middle of anything here." I realized I said that a bit futilely, seeing the position we were in, both literally and figuratively.

"Honestly? I don't know," she exhaled. "I don't think he wants anything more, and I'm pretty sure I don't either, but… I do like him."

"You're awful," I chuckled at her. "You and all your options."

"Pot, meet kettle," she shot back, smirking. "How 'bout you talk to me? What do you want here?"

_all night, i wish for you here_  
_lay your head beside my hip  
_ _i'm in really love with you_

I wasn't quite sure of the answer that question. I wanted everything, but I also had no expectations. I knew by now that those were dangerous. "You ever think you'll get married?" I decided to ask.

She laughed quietly in response. "Why are you avoiding my question?"

"Because I don't have an answer yet. So let's go with mine."

"That sounds like something I can't even fathom right now," she replied, shaking her head. "At some point down the line… maybe? Why?"

"Just asking…"

She was frowning at me curiously, obviously trying to decipher why I was being so cagey. "Rick, what do you want here?" she asked seriously.

"I want you." I began to run my tongue along her thighs as I waited for her answer to that.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Her hands were in my hair again, and her voice had a smile in it. "I want you too, Rick."

"So then what now?" I wondered, looking up at her as I thought of Daryl, and even Rachael. Were we hurting them? Would they care? I was loath to find out the answer.

"You and Rachael are… what?" she asked cautiously, her voice lowering.

"We're just friends, but… I know she wants more than that," I admitted quietly. "And I like her. Something about her makes me feel… good. Safe, even." I let out a sigh, shaking my head at the thought. "But she wasn't the light I was looking for."

Michonne looked down bashfully, trying to contain another grin. "So you weren't trying to make me jealous?"

"I might've been, a little," I confessed, smirking. "But I never had sex with her. Never even thought about it," I clarified. "I wouldn't do that after I spent a year waiting for you."

"Oh, wow." She was nodding her head slowly, as if sarcastically. "If you're trying to make me feel guilty, it's working."

"Good. I chuckled to let her know I wasn't serious, and then sat up to face her, spreading her thighs so I could fit in the space between them. She looked at me as if she had a thousand more secrets to share, and I was ready to uncover them all. But first, I was going to use the rest of the night to make her forget her name.

_i'm in really love with you_


	15. coming home

It's Monday when I finally return home, after my whirlwind of a weekend with Rick. We fought and made up in spectacular fashion, and I feel lighter and more enlightened for it. I feel like we're back on track after a major veer off course. I feel really good about our future now, whatever it ends up being.

When I walk into my own house, I can hear Daryl and Carol from the foyer. They're in the kitchen, and it sounds like they're quietly arguing over peanut butter, which is somehow not surprising in the least. When I walk in, Carol is packing up a knapsack, while Daryl sits on the other side of the counter, adding arrows to his crossbow. I decide to announce my presence with a cheerful grin.

"Good morning."

Daryl glances up at me and chuckles, clearly amused by something about me. "Well look what the cat dragged in."

"Just in time to see you off," I note, realizing that he's leaving for his recruitment mission with Aaron today. "You got everything you need?"

He nods, then looks over to Carol before landing back on me again. "You?"

"I think so," I confirm, knowing that he's referring to my situation with Rick. "It was a productive weekend."

"Oh, I'll bet it was," Carol says, joining us at the counter with a smirk on her face. "You even look better."

I point to the side of my face that had been swollen for nearly two weeks. "We finally got the tooth situation taken care of, too."

"No shit," Daryl asks, seemingly relieved for me. I turn to show him that I can open my mouth again, and he does a quick examination. "How'd that happen?"

"Just old school tooth-pulling," I say, wincing from just the memory of it.

"Good lord." Carol gazes at me with a look of disgust on her face and she shakes her head. "How the hell did you sit through that?"

"Well there was a bit of whiskey and a bit of crying," I admit. "It was excruciating, but… so was the infection."

Daryl is nodding his head slowly, as if he approves of the resolution. "That's badass."

"Well, you would be the authority on that," I smile appreciatively.

We all stand there in awkward silence for a bit, me staring at Daryl, while he stares at the counter, and I feel like Carol's eyes are on me. "Well," she eventually says, retreating towards the refrigerator. "I'm gonna finish up with this bag so the guys can get outta here…"

As I take a seat beside Daryl, he asks me, "Hey, didn't you say you were gonna make some bread for our trip?"

"Oh yes, I did." I hop up from my chair, thankful that he reminded me, and grab my masterpiece from the freezer. It had been my first try at making bread without a breadmaker, and I was actually quite proud of it.

"The freezer," Carol chuckles, looking back at Daryl. "I kept telling him, 'I don't see it anywhere.' Never once thought to check there."

"I figured I'd try and keep it fresh for as long as possible."

"I told her you wouldn't've left here without doin' it," Daryl declares in my defense. I can tell this is something else they've argued about.

"Well that's better," she says, pulling a couple of sleeves of crackers from the backpack. "Now you can have a real peanut butter sandwich."

"That was all I wanted," he answers, shrugging playfully. "Not some damn peanut butter crackers."

She shakes her head at him with a scoff. "You're just a giant baby, you know that?"

"Michonne, tell me you wouldn't rather have a real sandwich over a cracker sandwich," he implores me.

"I mean…" I have to chuckle at the ridiculousness of this conversation, but he does have a point. "If I have a choice, yeah, of course."

"Thank you."

"But," Carol inserts, "you're not so spoiled that you would actually bitch and moan if you didn't have a choice."

"That is… an accurate statement."

"I wasn't bitchin' and moanin'," Daryl defends himself now. "I was just sayin'."

She throws some utensils into the bag, wrapped in paper towels. "I know what exactly what you were sayin', Sunshine."

I continue to laugh at their old married couple routine, wondering if that's what Rick and I sound like in front of other people. I almost think I'd like that.

"Michonne, was there any more applesauce at Rick's house?" Carol wonders with a sigh.

"I think so," I answer, being shaken from my thoughts. "Judith usually has some for breakfast, so there should be."

"I'm gonna go grab a couple of jars," she says, examining the bag once more. "You need more fruit."

We both watch her disappear towards the front door, leaving just the two of us standing there, staring at one another. With a big grin, I tell him, "You better take care of her like this next time she goes on a run."

"You don't know by now I take care of my friends?"

"Fair enough," I chuckle back at him, leaning against the surface of the counter.

"Besides… she don't know it, but she lives for this shit."

"Oh, so she doesn't know it, but you do?"

He looks at me knowingly and nods. "Yup."

"You are so smug," I tell him in utter amusement. "It's amazing."

"Me? You disappear for two days without sayin' shit, then come back all bright-eyed and innocent, and still don't say shit. But I'm the smug one." He's smirking as he sets down his crossbow. "All right."

"I told you where I was going!"

"You did," he concedes with a shake of his head. "I guess we just figured you'd come up for air."

"Very funny."

We're both grinning at each other uncomfortably as another silence fills up the open room. I want to say something, if only to cap the conversation, but I don't know what. Do I owe him an apology? It doesn't feel like I do, but my judgment has been all off kilter lately.

"So… what's up," he asks expectantly, fortunately interrupting my train of thought. "You two a couple now, or what?"

"I'm not sure if I'd call it that," I say with a small smile, "but… we're getting somewhere."

He nods as he chews at the nail of his thumb. "'Bout time y'all stopped talkin' about each other instead of to each other."

"Yes, well… you are a wise man, my friend."

"Never been accused of that before…"

I chuckle in response as I gaze into his baby blues and all that hair covering them. God, he needs a haircut. "We're cool, right?" I ask hopefully.

"You got some reason we shouldn't be?"

"I mean, with me and Rick working things out, I don't want you to pull away from me. I want us to still be buds."

"You just want everything, huh?" he smirks back at me. He leans against the counter with me and nudges my shoulder with his. "I told you that night, I ain't stupid, Michonne. I know you're in love with Rick."

"You knew it that night?"

"I think I knew it a while ago," he reveals. "After that shit went down with Joe, when we were headed to Terminus?"

"Yeah…"

"You looked at him like the sun shined out of his ass. That was probably when I started to think it."

I can't help but laugh loudly at his assessment. "That is not true."

"All right, well you just called me wise, so… you oughta take my word for it."

"Well. I didn't know it until two nights ago, so if you knew it two months ago, I guess you really are."

He looks down as he nods lightly. "I'm happy for y'all."

I lower my head so I can get a good look at his face. To see if I can try and read his expression. "Are you?"

"Don't be so dramatic," he scoffs. "We had a good night, but I thought we both knew it wasn't gonna be any more than that. You ain't gotta pretend somethin' else for my benefit."

I feel relieved to hear him say this, but I can definitely detect a slight shift in his demeanor now. It's that disappointment you feel when you confirm something you already knew was true. "I'm so-."

"Don't," he cuts me off to say. "This ain't somethin' needin' an apology."

"I was gonna say, 'I'm so proud of you,'" I retort seriously. "You've come a long way from the man that you were when we got here. That man that was mourning Beth," I remind him softly. "I don't know what's gonna happen on the road with you and Aaron - I hope you become friends. But I do know it can get lonely out there in the wild, so if you feel like you're losing grip, I want you to come home, Daryl. Come back and talk to someone you know. It doesn't have to be me, and I understand if it's not. But I hope you know that I'm always here for you."

"I know," he promises, looking over to me. "You helped pull me outta that. You told me it would get better, and it did. I'm good."

"You sure?"

He nods and pulls up from the counter to face me. I stand up straight as well, expecting to give him a quick hug goodbye. Instead, he pulls me close by the back of my head and leaves an awkwardly endearing kiss on my forehead. "We're good."

* * *

" _I wish I had a better excuse, but I don't. I just… I love Michonne."_

" _I don't understand. You specifically said that you and her weren't together in that way. Even she said it!"_

" _It moved quickly. We were sorting out a lot when you came into the picture. I probably should've been more transparent about that..."_

" _Yeah, no kidding."_

" _Rachael, I'm sorry."_

" _I don't need your apologies, Rick. I just wish you'd been honest."_

" _Me, too."_

As I find my way to Deanna's front porch, I catch the tail end of a conversation Rick is having with Rachael. We've been at the house for over an hour, waiting for Glenn and his run crew to return so we can have a town hall meeting. Of course, we didn't quite expect for them to return with devastating news. And now I have to relay that news to Rick. We've lost Noah.

With a sigh, I make my move to interrupt Rick and Rachael's exchange. "Hey," I say softly, not wanting to startle them, hating to disturb them.

"Michonne, can we have-."

"It's fine," Rachael says quickly, wiping her face once she sees me. "I should get back to the meeting anyway."

Rick nods and looks at me regretfully. As Rachael passes me, she gives me a glare that could melt ice, but I can't react to it. I suppose I deserve it even. "You okay?" I ask him cautiously.

"Could've gone worse," he shrugs, holding his hand out to me. "Come here."

I join him at the railing, remembering the last time we were in this spot together at Deanna's party, and how badly that conversation ended. What a difference a couple of weeks make. I think I feel closer to him now than I ever have. God, I don't want to have to tell him this.

"I never thought she would cry," he goes on, obliviously. "I mean, we were essentially just friends. Nothin' more than that. Maybe she just built up her expectations in her head." With a big, sharp exhale, he leans over the railing, looking out to our neighborhood. "Hopefully, she'll still let the kids hang out. Carl really likes Liv, I can tell."

"I'm sure she will," I say absently, gazing down at our feet.

After a short pause, he puts his hand on my back comfortingly. "Are you all right?"

The tears freely stream down my face as I look back at him. That poor kid. Why do the innocent ones always have to go? The children. They were what made this life worth living, and for some reason, they kept dying. I shake my head as Rick frowns, wiping at my face.

"Michonne, what's wrong?"

"Noah…" I manage to croak out before I look away from him.

"Jesus." He pulls away from me with a giant sigh, and puts his hands over his face in an obvious frustration. He stands still for a moment, facing me, but his eyes won't look up from the floor either. Even in the darkness, I can see he's crying, too. "How… " He sniffles and shakes his head, obviously not wanting to know more than that yet. Instead, he slowly takes a seat on the top step and holds tightly to the railing beside him.

Yet again, I have no idea what to say. How many different times can I tell him that it's just another bad day? So I don't say anything. I just sit down beside him and pull him close. I wrap him in my arms, knowing that this is all I can do. I can't fix it. I can't talk him down. I can just be there.

"Even here, I can't keep them alive," he whispers and then exhales again heavily. "We're never gonna stop fighting, are we?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly, feeling defeated myself. "Probably not."

"I was starting to think this place was our happy ending."

I smile softly at the thought, but even I know that that's rather unrealistic. "Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet."

"I wish that wasn't so accurate."

"Me, too," I whisper back. I let my chin rest on his shoulder and we both sit there silently, taking in the sounds of the quiet evening. I still have to tell him that Tara has been critically injured. And Deanna's son, Aiden, didn't make it back either, so I imagine people will be leaving soon, once they find out what's happened. But until then, I just enjoy this quiet, sad moment with Rick.

"He was such a sweet kid," he comments hoarsely as he holds tightly to my hand. "And he really liked it here."

"I know…"

"Carl is gonna be crushed," he adds with another sigh. "They were becoming close."

Somehow, I hadn't even thought of that. But the two of them shared a room, which instantly ignited a bond between them. Now Carl would have to sleep in that room alone? I hated that for him. "We should go tell him," I suggest. I don't let go of Rick's hand as I stand up again.

He looks up at me as if he's unsure whether he wants to follow. "I'm in no rush to make him sad here."

"It's gonna be a long night," I say, gently tugging at his hand. "We're gonna sit up all night and talk, because he'll be too sad to sleep. So come on. We gotta rip off the band-aid first."

With his free hand, he tiredly rubs the side of his face before finally standing with me. He gives me a small, appreciative smile as he looks down at our intertwined hands. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You're coming home with me, to help me face this. That means a lot."

As we step down from the porch together, I send an encouraging gaze his way to let him know that he doesn't have to thank me. I'm doing what I should've done a long time ago. "I'm just coming home."


	16. happy endings

**_Rick's POV_   
**

I was sitting in Deanna's living room, using her laptop to watch some of the interviews she had conducted when we first arrived at Alexandria. I was particularly interested in Noah's, just to see his face again, I guess. But I came across Carl's, and I had to ask myself why I hadn't watched his sooner.

He was sitting there with his sister, looking around whimsically as Deanna asked him about his journey. She talked to him the same way she did the adults, and in turn, he did the same with her.  _"It's never been easy,"_ he said stoically _. "Not since the day we left our hometown. But we've never had it as hard as we have in the past couple of months."_

" _You've lost a lot of people, I hear."_

" _We've lost a lot and we've done a lot,"_  he nodded, looking down at Judith.  _"I dunno…"_

" _A lot of your group seems to think it's best to be here for you and your sister. That that's why your dad decided to come."_

" _My dad decided to come because Michonne convinced him,"_  he chuckled. It was nice to see his face light up for a moment.  _"But deep down, I guess it was for us."_

" _And what about you? Are you happy to be here, Carl?"_

" _This is the kind of place my mom wanted for us."_

" _You think she'd be relieved to see you here now?"_

" _I know she is."_

My kid, I swear. He was always just sad enough to break your heart a little. Even when he was happy, there was that bit of gloom just beneath the surface. We probably all had it, and for good reason; but seeing it in Carl did me in, every single time.

With a sigh, I went on to click on the file labeled  _Michonne_ , and the second she came into view, I noticed how tired she looked at the time. It was amazing what a few weeks here at Alexandria had done for her. This place had renewed her, it seemed.

" _We've got two kids,"_  she was saying to Deanna as she carefully examined the bookshelves behind the interview chair.  _"We've needed a place like this for a long time."_

" _Just for the kids?"_

" _For all of us. But I'll be honest – I'm not sure we would've been willing to try this if it weren't for them."_

" _Why is that, Michonne?"_

" _Because I don't trust easily, and Rick doesn't trust at all."_

" _But you trust each other."_

" _We do,"_  she was nodding. She sighed as she took a seat, and it looked like she was thinking back on something _. "It took a lot of work for us to get there. A lot of distrust at first, and a lot of misunderstanding one another. But once I got what Rick was about…"_  She began to shake her head, her eyes staring off into the distance as she chuckled. She had the most beautiful smile.

" _And what would you say Rick Grimes is about?"_  Deanna prodded.

" _The easiest way to sum it up? When it was dark, he carried the sun for me."_  She looked down from the interviewer, but her smile didn't fade.  _"For all of us."_

I felt a tear run down my face, and I immediately paused the recording. I wanted to hear the rest of what she had to say, but more than that, I wanted to run home and just tell Michonne how fucking happy she made me. Even though I knew she knew it, I just wanted to say it. I wanted to say it right then. Loudly. Unapologetically. Repeatedly.

I quickly and quietly returned Deanna's computer to her office and began to head out of the house. But just as I was about to open the front door, it swung open on its own and Rachael was standing in front of me. I froze in place, uncertain of what to say. I hadn't seen much of her over the week – just in passing, and never in such close proximity. It seemed she had been avoiding me, and I was all right with being avoided. But now, there was no way to pretend we hadn't noticed each other.

"Hey," I greeted her tentatively, unsure of how it would be received.

"Hey."

"Haven't seen you around much. How've you been?"

"Busy," she nodded, doing her best not to look me in the eye. As she brushed her bangs from her face, I couldn't help but notice that she had put her wedding ring back on.

"Your mom said you led your first run? With Holly and Tobin?"

"Yeah."

"How was it? I know you weren't so sure about their shooting before..."

She looked at me for a long time, as if she were trying to decide whether she wanted to engage in this conversation with me. Like she was trying to decide just how much she hated me. "Rick, what are you doing?" she finally asked pointedly.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't need you to pretend to be my friend," she said. "You made your choice, and whatever. It's fine. But the whole, 'Let's pretend everything is great'? It's insulting."

"I didn't mean to be," I returned genuinely. "I really would like it if we could be friends."

"Of course you would." She scoffed and began to walk further into Deanna's home, but turned back to me before I could make an exit. "I know that you technically didn't do anything wrong, but... you made me think I had a chance. And then you snatched it away. Not cool."

"Rachael, I'm really sorry that-"

"You got your happy ending, Rick. Just leave me alone."

I turned for the door, understanding that there was nothing I could do but respect that. I hated knowing that I had caused her any pain, or made her regress back to wearing her wedding ring, but in the end, she was right. What would I be able to do to make it better for her? Nothing. So I silently wished her the best and continued on home.

When I returned, Michonne, Carl, and Judy were exactly where I left them, still sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by empty breakfast bowls. They were listening to John Mayer, because Noah was a big fan, and so that's all we'd been playing in the house all week. It had been strangely therapeutic.

"Hey," I called out to them when they hadn't noticed me come in.

Judith pulled out of Michonne's lap and crawled towards me, while the other two looked up obliviously. "Hey, Dad," Carl returned.

"Is this what we're doin' all day?" I asked, picking up my daughter from the floor. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Maggie invited us over to help plant some seeds," Michonne offered with a shrug, although I knew she didn't want to do that, and neither did Carl.

"I thought we said we weren't gonna tell him," Carl inserted in surprise.

" _You_  said  _you_  weren't gonna tell him," she grinned back at him. "No secrets between us," she declared, looking up at me. "Right?"

"Right." I couldn't help myself from staring at her. I was so thankful that this was the place we'd arrived to. We had our rift, but we came out on the other side of it, stronger than ever.

I wasn't sure how many people were left on the planet, but even if all seven billion of them suddenly came back, she would still be my favorite. I loved her. Not for the way she danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons. She was my light. And I would love her forever ever. What an astounding thing to realize.

"Well I don't wanna do any more farming, Dad. Please don't make us go."

I snapped out of my love haze and chuckled in reply as I looked over to Carl. "I'm not gonna make you go," I promised. "I've got a better idea."

"Uh oh…"

"It's a nice day," I said, ignoring my son's sarcastic dread. "Why don't we go for a ride?"

* * *

_**Michonne's POV** _

"They were on a break!" I defend loudly, forgetting that Judy is probably knocked out behind me.

"But a break is not a break  _up_ ," Rick says, glancing over at me. "It if was, they wouldn't have different names."

"That is a sound argument," I admit reluctantly. "But either way, the relationship was broken, and Ross was free to do whatever he wanted to do."

"I'm sorry, but I don't agree. Rachel just needed a minute to collect her thoughts." His fingers tap at the steering wheel for a couple of beats before he adds, "The man couldn't even wait a few hours."

"You've gotta be kidding me," I grin, turning to the backseat, where Carl has been listening to this exchange for the better part of ten minutes. "Whose side are you on?"

"So don't kill me," he starts, already looking back and forth between me and his dad. "I've never seen Friends, so I'm going strictly based off of your arguments…"

"Okay…"

"I agree with Dad," he reveals, wincing at me.

"All right, stop the car," I tell Rick jokingly. "I'm getting out."

"You're the one that asked him."

"Because I thought I'd taught him better than this! What is this treachery?"

"I'm sorry, Michonne," he laughs amusedly. "But I just think, you know… there had to be a reason she said 'break' and not 'break up.'"

"Oh god," I sigh. "She should've just used her big girl words and said what she needed to say instead of asking for a break."

"Michonne has personal experience with this," Rick tells Carl, looking at him in his rearview mirror. "Don't mind her."

I playfully glare at him before gazing out of the windows to our passing surroundings. Everything looks familiar, but I'm not quite sure why. I haven't been around Virginia enough to know any of these places. "Where are we going?" I decide to finally ask.

"We're just riding," Rick says in a way that I know he's lying.

I look back at Carl, who's suddenly pretending that he's looking out of the windows, too. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Nope," he answers much too quickly for my liking.

"Why does this feel like a setup?"

"A setup for what?" Rick retorts, smiling over at me adorably. "It's a Saturday morning drive with your family. Enjoy it."

This, of course, doesn't make me wonder any less about where we're headed, but I sit back and do exactly that. It's still a bit difficult to wrap my head around all of this, but… here we are. We took that leap of faith. Of course, Rick and I went stumbling into a wall and nearly killed ourselves, but we did it. All of it. Rick said he would find the light at the end of that dark, dark tunnel, and he did. He always does exactly what he says he's going to do, and I fall a little bit more in love with him every time he proves that fact.

There's a Joan Didion quote that goes,  _"I did not always think he was right, nor did he always think I was right, but we were each the person the other trusted."_  I've been thinking of this a lot recently; perhaps because I noticed the book that that quote comes from on Deanna's bookshelf. But also, it's a perfect summation of my relationship with Rick. We will argue – that's inevitable – about big things, and small things, and silly things. But at the end of the day, he has my unwavering support, and I know that I have his. It's an astounding thing to realize.

Our day continues, and I finally figure out where the hell we've driven to. We're a good forty miles from Alexandria, and I recognize that we're not far from the barn where Aaron found us about a month ago. As we pile out of the car, I look at Rick suspiciously, wondering exactly what he's up to.

"What is this?"

"You're just never gonna stop asking questions, are you?" he smirks back at me as he pulls our backpack out of the truck.

"Well I would stop if you'd just answer me."

"Just keep an eye out for walkers," he tells me as we continue into the woods towards that old barn.

The day is absolutely beautiful, I notice on our short trek. Not too hot, like it was the last time we were here. The sun is at the top of the sky, and there's not a cloud to be seen. It feels almost dreamlike. Judith is gazing at me over Carl's shoulder and I smile at her, watching her giggle in reply. Oh, my little jelly bean.

We reach the barn, and everything looks the same as we left it. I can so vividly remember standing outside of it, talking to Rick about Alexandria. It's where we decided we would give it a shot. It all seemed so scary then. Seems so long ago now. I begin to draw my katana so we can check inside, but Rick softly holds my arm to stop me.

"Before we go any further, I wanted to ask you somethin'," he says seriously.

I look at him with concern, because I'm not sure what that could be. When I look back at Carl, he's leaned against the barn door with a smile on his face, so I figure it can't be that bad. And then I turn back to Rick, to find him down on one knee. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. "Rick, what are you doing?"

"My life began the day you showed up at that prison, Michonne.  _Our_  lives began when we stood in this very spot and decided to go to Alexandria." He holds onto both my hands as he stares up into my eyes. "Marry me."

I exhale shakily, because never in a million years did I see this coming. I'm speechless.

"I know you said you couldn't fathom marriage right now," he nods, not letting go of me. "But you… you're my best friend, my roommate, my partner in crime… my life. I can't fathom living another day without you being my wife, Michonne."

"Shit," I whisper, feeling the tears falling down my face faster than I can think. "Jesus, Rick."

"I know this is a big leap," he says, squeezing my hand now. "But we've watched too many people die to waste another minute of our lives. Let's get married."

I'm crying hard, but I'm smiling too, because I instantly begin to think of everything that makes sense about this. And even if it doesn't make sense, I don't care. I want to be his, and I want him to be mine. Because he's the person I trust. Because home isn't four walls and a roof; it was two eyes and a heartbeat. Because when it was dark, he carried the sun for me. He is my light. I get down on my knees to meet his gaze, nodding adamantly in answer to his question. There is no other answer. "Let's jump."

**end**


End file.
